


Mark of the Pisan

by chains_archivist



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Angst, Boys in Chains, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slaves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 14:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 31,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4225926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Robin Serrano </p><p>At his eighteenth birthday celebration, Obi-Wan is kidnapped by somone from Qui-Gon's past, and he is coerced into selling himself into slavery. His situation forces him to re-examine all he has believed about his future with Qui-Gon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).  
> \--  
> Warnings: YES!!! This story seriously blurs and toys with the notions of non-con. It also gets rather kinky. If you have any concerns about whether or not this story will disturb you, I strongly suggest checking beyond the spoiler space for more info. For further warnings which include spoilers [see end notes].
> 
> Notes and thanks: Huge debt of gratitude to Trinity, for hanging in there through 4 drafts of this sucker. Her advice and input were critical. Extra special thanks to LaConstance and Fox. Both of these ladies were amazing. LaConstance created an analysis that was *incredibly* detailed and so helpful in getting the final version in shape (and I'm deeply humbled at the work that had to have gone into that). Fox gave it the fine-toothed comb and not only called me on my occasionally atrocious grammar, but she had some really insightful plot points that helped me make the fic better. Special thanks also to RavenD and to Pumpkin for their help, too. This story would not be the same, and would not be as good without their insights as well. Sincerest Thanks to all of you, again! 
> 
> (And if I forgot someone, please feel free to me!)

A crooked smile, warm blue eyes, and a gentle caress to the back of his head... Obi-Wan held fast to that memory; it was the key to his last reserve of calm. To let those images escape from his mind would surely send him spiraling into panic.   
  
Avon-Durr, his captor, fingered the tiny lock on Obi-Wan's new collar and stepped back with a salacious grin, pocketing the little gold key. Obi-Wan could feel his connection to the Force dampening, until all he felt was a useless, dull thrum.   
  
"Now, courageous little Jedi, tell me again what your Master will do when he finds me." Avon-Durr's request was softly spoken, but Obi-Wan didn't mistake the danger in the man's cold dark eyes. "That was not rhetorical, boy. Say it!" Sudden volume betrayed the man's volatility.   
  
Obi-Wan's mouth opened, but his throat constricted before he could utter even a syllable of his prediction. The collar? He tried again. He felt a series of electro-magnetic pulses as soon as his throat vibrated with an attempt at sound. Despite realizing the implications, it was instinct to try again. The band of the collar gripped his larynx, clenching even more the harder he tried to speak. All the Sith fucking Hells! Force-dampening and voice-restricting. This was not good.   
  
Crooked smile, soothing shades of blue, and the feel of Qui-Gon's warm, large hand ruffling his hair fondly... His center gradually returned.   
  
Obi-Wan opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed when he heard the almost hysterical cackling of the surly humanoid who'd kidnapped him from his padawan outing.   
  
"Ridiculous Jedi, the lot of you. You think that because your padawans pass their eighteenth year, that they're suddenly grown! Whelps, all of you. Sending a bunch of eighteen-year-old padawans off planet to celebrate their adulthood. It's laughable, don't you think?" Durr cocked his head as he asked.   
  
Obi-Wan's automatic reply earned him a squeeze from the collar before he remembered. Durr bent in half, chuckling even harder. "Oops!" he fairly giggled, as he glanced up with an eerie facsimile of good humor.   
  
"Like I was saying," Durr continued once he calmed himself. "Easy pickings. What do eighteen-year-old boys like? Simple! Eighteen-year-old girls! Girls who bat their pretty eyes, lick their lips and make you hard as a grotta rock. Well, life is about much more than your libido, boy."   
  
  
  
Obi-Wan's memory flashed to the pretty young girl who'd asked him to dance at the club on Alderaan. He'd thought she was moving awfully fast, but his hormones had won their battle against his good judgment. Plus, they were on *Alderaan* where there was hardly anything to fear; and so it was a shock indeed to look up from where the girl's nose was nuzzling his navel in the darkened alley of the club, just in time to see the butt of a blaster connect with his temple. Durr was right about one thing. He wasn't any brighter this quarter than the last, simply for having turned eighteen. He'd have to take up with Master Yoda this field trip custom for newly minted eighteen-year-olds.   
  
"With any luck, you Jedi will learn another lesson from this. Your actions have consequences. Qui-Gon Jinn's actions must have consequences." The man now spoke in low, seething tone, all of his mirth gone.   
  
Obi-Wan looked at his captor through narrowed eyes. What was this man planning to do to him? What grudge did Durr hold with his Master that he would use a Padawan to get revenge?   
  
  
  
"But, in order for him to fully experience those consequences," Durr continued, staring hard at Obi-Wan, "he will eventually have to find you, and see for himself what his actions have caused. If you attempt to escape before I arrange for him to locate you, you will die. Now, mind you, I wouldn't mind seeing your Master have to live with that guilt; in fact, it would be as acceptable as having to see what condition you are in when he does get to you. So whether you live or die is entirely up to you. I will know if you attempt escape. I have eyes and ears everywhere. Do not test me on this, little Jedi Padawan... I do not bluff." Obi-Wan believed him.  
  
~*~   
  
The slave market of Pilani. Obi-Wan had heard rumors of this world. They were an oddity in that sexual slavery was voluntary, a choice made by many of Pilani's people. A Pilanian who sold him or herself into sexual slavery could be assured that their young ones and elders would have sufficient funds to be fed and clothed for many years. It was considered a noble sacrifice. Beyond that, Obi-Wan knew nothing of the customs of buying and selling a Pilanian Pisan, the term they used for their sex slaves.   
  
Avon-Durr showed Obi-Wan to a few potential buyers, and all looked upon him with kind and gentle violet eyes. Their species' fair coloring and mannerisms made their compassion evident, and almost palpable. Still, he was a commodity to be bought and sold, whether he was treated kindly or not. After all, even livestock were occasionally petted and kindly treated at auction.   
  
It was difficult to stand there and placidly accept the shoppers' tender caresses to his cheek, but Obi-Wan's compliance at that point was guaranteed. Durr had explained that the collar had another handy feature; it could emit an electromagnetic pulse strong enough to disrupt electrical activity in his brain; that meant that his involuntary motor responses, such as his heart beat and his respiration would simply cease. Obi-Wan would die.   
  
A small remote device that Durr kept in his pocket controlled the collar. If Obi-Wan attempted to escape, Durr would use it, as he'd promised. If Obi-Wan did anything to hint that he was anything but a willing Pisan, Durr would use it. Dying was not an option. Besides the guilt that his death would cause Qui-Gon, it simply wasn't in Obi-Wan's nature to give up his life merely to escape the temporary indignity of sexual slavery.   
  
He'd been given further incentive to behave when Durr warned him that if he was too much trouble, his owner had the right to geld him.   
  
"Oh, don't look so shocked, Jedi Padawan," Durr had admonished. "How else do owners keep their male pets docile? Voluntary slavery or no, these Pilanians will not want you to be too spirited. But, they're your balls, do what you like," he'd shrugged and then left to greet the next set of potential customers in his waiting room.   
  
Obi-Wan had no intention of causing trouble. He'd behave as a Jedi and do what he must until the situation was resolved. And he'd do it with his balls intact. He would not return to Qui-Gon a eunuch.   
  
Obi-Wan's head snapped up when Durr threw the door open once again. A tall Pilanian came in, with his almost-as-tall mate. A husband and wife who had been to see him earlier, he realized. This time, though, there were two more Pilanians with them. Boys of about his age, they both stood nearly as tall as Qui-Gon. They entered the room behind their mother, with twin smiles of anticipation. Slowly, the young men walked around their mother to get a better look at the wares-- Obi-Wan. He was suddenly grateful, and not for the first time, that Durr had left him dressed in modest leggings and a simple tunic. He'd even allowed Obi-Wan to keep his boots.   
  
It did not escape Obi-Wan, the irony that though Durr had used a girl as bait to abduct him, the customers who came to view him were all looking for a Pisan for a male. Obi-Wan rubbed at an insistent itch on his hip as he eyed the family warily, particularly the younger males.   
  
The lanky young men now watching him avidly had shoulder-length, slightly wavy black hair, gentle smiles formed from lush lips, and the fair skin and violet eyes common to their species. "Father, he's exquisite!" one of the boys exclaimed softly. The young men circled him cautiously, and Obi-Wan realized that he was trembling.   
  
"Easy, we won't hurt you," the other one whispered and caressed his cheek with the backs of his fingers, as many of the other Pilanians had done.   
  
"He's not Pilanian," the first twin remarked to Durr, the question in the statement plain.   
  
"No. He's from a small moon world of Darona. But he has known of the Pilanian Pisans and is grateful to have this chance to care for his loved ones. His sacrifice will help educate his young sisters and will help see that his aging grandfather receives medical care." Durr's lie rolled from his tongue effortlessly.   
  
More sets of sympathetic eyes settled on him. Obi-Wan swallowed a thick surge of emotion. These people had no idea why he was there. They had no idea what the true root of his despair was, and yet they seemed to sense the depths of it anyway.   
  
"Well, Cason, Eron, what do you think?"   
  
The boys flanked Obi-Wan in an ironically protective formation and turned to their father. Obi-Wan glanced sideways at both boys and saw matching smiles. The young men then moved in front of their new purchase. "Your gift to your loved ones humbles and honors us, Obi-Wan." Cason, Obi-Wan believed, spoke with a sincerity that made his stomach flutter.   
  
So, Durr had actually told them his name... perhaps he'd told the truth about Qui-Gon eventually coming for him after all. Obi-Wan's pulse raced as he watched Durr finish the transaction with the Pilanian father. Though they appeared to be kind people despite purchasing a sex slave, they were an unknown quantity to Obi-Wan.   
  
"I'll send the data on his collar once I get in contact with the medical facility on Darona," Durr was telling the tall, susceptible Pilanian. "Shame about the accident, really. But at least the collar allows him to breathe properly and lead a normal life otherwise..."   
  
Obi-Wan was furthered frightened by the finely crafted details Durr had put into place. If collars were not required of Pisans on this world, then Durr had explained its presence as well as his silence flawlessly.   
  
"Come, Obi-Wan. It's time to take you home now," Eron told him gently. After a very subtle warning glance from Avon-Durr, Obi-Wan nodded obediently and followed his new owners out of the room that had served as Durr's Pisan brokerage office.   
  
Obi-Wan couldn't help but stare at the tall buildings as their shuttle wove into the air traffic. Some of these structures equaled the towers of Coruscant. Obi-Wan had missed this view coming into the Pilanian capital. He'd still been unconscious.   
  
Unlike Coruscant, though, the tall towers eventually gave way to shorter structures, less densely-constructed buildings, and eventually to sprawling and lush greenery. Qui-Gon would love this view, Obi-Wan thought with a pang of remorse. Though they'd had some rocky moments, he and his Master had eventually become a team, and more than that, Qui-Gon had become his friend. They'd come to a point in which they could either share their deepest thoughts, or simply be in one another's company in contented silence. Obi-Wan didn't want to have to see the disappointment in Qui-Gon's eyes at this fiasco of his.   
  
What in the stars had he been thinking, going to that club? He could have spent his birthday holiday with Qui-Gon. Padawans were not *forced* to take the Alderaan eighteenth-year excursion, it was merely an unofficial tradition. He could have simply told Yoda that he preferred to spend his break with Qui-Gon. But no... his friends were going, and it had sounded so tempting, meeting all those pretty girls. And though Obi-Wan had foreseen that his bond with Qui-Gon would someday become intimate, he did not know when it would happen. So, like an impatient child, he decided he could not wait for an undetermined time to discover the physical pleasures of sex, with a partner, that is. *Idiot*, Obi-Wan silently growled at himself.   
  
Obi-Wan's thoughts were interrupted as the transport slowed and came to a group of four oval structures connected by skywalks. They looked clean and white, with lots of glass to reflect beams of golden sunlight.   
  
Once they pulled in front of the estate, Obi-Wan could see that the oval buildings rested upon curved pillars, and were about fifty meters from the ground. Through his viewport, he could see an elevator rising from the bottom of the largest pillar of the central building in the complex. The shuttle landed and numbly, Obi-Wan rose when prompted.   
  
He followed the Pilanian family to the elevator door he's seen from the shuttle.   
  
"Welcome home, Obi-Wan. This is the Laridian family estate."   
  
Obi-Wan looked into the elder Laridian's eyes and nodded his understanding.   
  
"Ison, remind the boys to be easy with him, please. Sir Avon-Durr did say that Obi-Wan is a virgin," the boys' mother spoke softly.   
  
"Yes, Risa, of course. I'll have a long talk with them after evening meal."   
  
Obi-Wan caught Cason and Eron glancing at one another to roll their eyes. If he hadn't been frightened and anxious, Obi-Wan might also have been amused by the irony of the matriarch's remark. It was the immature endeavor to lose his virginity that got him into this mess.   
  
Obi-Wan's heart pounded against his breastbone as the elevator took them to the main entryway of the estate. Exiting the elevator, he couldn't help but appreciate the view from the wide, curved window. Wild, exotic greenery grew up all around, and he could see rolling hills in the distance. The living area of the complex was level with the tops of the trees around it. With a pang, Obi-Wan realized that if not for the collar, the Living Force would have been singing to him in that moment.   
  
A hand slipping into his startled Obi-Wan out of his reverie. He glanced to his side and upward to see Eron smiling at him tenderly. "Come. We'll show you to our quarters. We can get you changed, and then we'll go to the dining room for our meal."   
  
Obi-Wan looked all around him as they continued deeper into the sky dwelling, taking in all of the details of this unusual home. He knew that he must have looked like a child doing so, but his lack of connection to the Force made him feel as if he was missing one of his senses, one he'd had all of his life, such as his hearing. The only devices left to him in this situation were his other powers of perception. Then realized he was thinking in terms of escape again. He couldn't do that. Force only knew what else that damnable collar could do. Durr had said he had eyes and ears everywhere, after all.   
  
At last they walked across one of the skywalks and came to the door to the twins' quarters. When Cason palmed the door open, Obi-Wan's jaw dropped. The room was huge. There was a sitting area with large, plush-looking sofas, a low table and a fireplace. The wall opposite was mirrored floor to ceiling and there was an exercise mat in front of it. Next to the mirrored wall was a rack with combat staffs. So that was how the boys kept in shape? That meant that if they allowed it, he might also be able to keep himself fit. He'd at least try.   
  
Straight ahead was another door, a smoky plexi-glass that palmed open as well. Inside was a bed that looked to be sized for a nobleman. It was covered with a huge, white down comforter and mounds of pillows. On the wall opposite the bed was an armoire and a chest of drawers made of a rich, deeply-colored wood.   
  
"This is yours, Obi-Wan," Eron explained. He must have looked dumbstruck, because both boys chuckled softly. "You're an honored Pisan, Obi-Wan. Your comfort and pleasure will be a priority for us. Come, we'll show you our sleeping room."   
  
Eron again took Obi-Wan's hand and led him to yet another door, deeper into the suite of rooms. Obi-Wan was further surprised to see that while it was elegant, it was really very simple. There were two beds, large enough for the boys to be comfortable, but they looked very practical.   
  
Oh, but this room also featured a large window with a view of the rolling hills and a garden in full bloom. It was then that Obi-Wan realized the importance of the layout of the rooms. Obi-Wan's room was in the center of the boys' wing of the Laridian home, and was accessible from Cason and Eron's sleeping room and from the common room. He would most likely be servicing the young men in the large bed that was to be his. He'd almost allowed himself to forget why they were being so kind to him.   
  
"The bathing room has a door from in here as well as from your room. It's large enough that we can all comfortably share," Cason told him. "Come, let's get you changed. You must be hungry."  
  
He couldn't deny that, Obi-Wan realized as he felt his stomach rumble.   
  
Back in his room, they opened the armoire to show Obi-Wan his new wardrobe. Tunics of the softest fabrics, some in luxuriant silks, hung from padded hangers. There was also a row of leggings to match them. "We didn't know how tall you'd be, so the leggings might be a little long. For now, they'll tuck nicely into your boots. We'll send them out tomorrow to be altered. And we'll have some more appropriate shoes for you ordered as well." Eron explained the situation with his clothes as he rummaged through the hangers to find Obi-Wan something to change into.   
  
"These will do nicely." The smiling young man pulled out a set of rich brown leggings and its matching tunic, one of the silks.   
  
Obi-Wan took the proffered clothes and just stood, feeling so lost. Cason touched his arm sympathetically. "Don't worry, Obi-Wan. We won't ask anything of you before dinner. And anyway, it's really best to curb this modesty now." He punctuated his statement with a kiss to Obi-Wan's flushed cheek.   
  
He moved to the bed to sit while he removed his boots. He was grateful that the boys, despite Cason's words, had busied themselves looking over the wardrobe further. They murmured softly about the arrangements to have them fitted for Obi-Wan's size.   
  
He'd just dropped his leggings when the young men turned to him and smiled appreciatively. He felt his cheeks enflame yet again at their scrutiny. So much for subtle discretion. And damn Avon-Durr for leaving him without any underwear. It looked like his new owners were not inclined to give him any, either.   
  
Trying not to rush and show his discomfort any further, Obi-Wan pulled the new leggings on and tried to finish his changing casually. Through surreptitious glances he saw the approving expressions on the boys' faces. He wasn't sure what that meant to him, so he did his best to convince himself that it didn't mean anything to him at all.   
  
*****************   
  
Dinner was another round of surprises. He was seated at the dining table with the immediate family. Large and round, the table had a vase of fresh flowers in the middle, and a servant brought platters of succulent meats and roasted vegetables. Obi-Wan was given heaps of food, and his goblet was kept filled with cool fruit juice. Risa Laridian smiled her approval and encouraged him to eat. He couldn't stop his smile of gratitude to her. He'd not eaten since before he was kidnapped from Alderaan.   
  
As dinner wore on, he found it impossible to believe that these people would consider castrating him. They certainly showed no fear of him, and had not treated him as an animal or potential escapee. It seemed Durr had done some bluffing after all. The problem was, calling these bluffs had too high a price.   
  
After evening meal, the Laridian boys escorted him back to their quarters. They showed him stacks of data pads, filled with novels and various books that they thought Obi-Wan would enjoy. They also had a collection of holo-vids, and he was assured he could view them anytime he wished. When they promised him a full tour of the estate in the morning, he allowed himself a measure of hope that he would be allowed to retire-- alone.   
  
Moments later, he cursed himself for indulging in the folly of hope. He was a sex slave, after all-- well-fed and well-treated, but still a sex slave.   
  
"It's your first night, Obi-Wan. We wouldn't want to overwhelm you. So, tonight we see to your pleasure exclusively. Come. Time for bed," Cason whispered the last.   
  
Obi-Wan's heart seized, then began to thump loudly. These boys had no idea that his situation was not voluntary. They had treated him with such kindness, and even a certain deference... and yet, he could only think of what was to come as a violation.   
  
Reflexively, he summoned the image of Qui-Gon's lopsided smile, the one that made his eyes twinkle, and the feeling of his comforting hand ruffling and then smoothing down the spikes of his hair. But for the first time since the ordeal began, those images brought pain and shame rather than comfort. Those images were from the last time he'd seen Qui-Gon... When his Master had wished him a good trip and a happy birthday and had then seen him off at his transport for Alderaan. Those images now served to remind him of just how terribly he'd betrayed Qui-Gon. And himself.   
  
His dinner roiled in his stomach as his new owners led him into his room. Just as they walked through the door, Ison Laridian came into the common room of the quarters, a gently requested "Hold," catching them before the boys could palm Obi-Wan's bedroom door shut. Crossing the quarters with a sober expression, he stood in the doorway to address his sons and Obi-Wan.   
  
"Well. Your first night together. All three of you bear a responsibility to see that this night sets the tone for a fulfilling relationship to come. Obi-Wan, I realize how difficult this will be for you. I'm certain that you understand that our hospitality comes at a price. My sons understand that it is their duty to ensure that that price never seems entirely too high. Cason, Eron, I do not ever want to hear that you have caused this generous boy pain."   
  
Ison paused, probably to let his words sink into all three young men. They definitely sank in for Obi-Wan. The elder Laridian was making it clear to his sons that while Obi-Wan was there to attend to the boys' sexual appetites, the family would see to his comforts. To Obi-Wan, it only emphasized one thing; he was fully expected to perform sexually. And no amount of silk luxuries or culinary delicacies could change that. Suddenly the walls seemed to close in. There was nowhere to go. This was it.   
  
"Obi-Wan, I will come to you in one quarter's time to ask you again if you are certain that this is the right choice for you. It is the right of every potential Pisan to renege on the Pisan agreement after the quarter's trial period. If you do that, the sum of money already transferred to your family will remain theirs, and there will be no shame for your decision. However, all further promised support will be withdrawn. Do you understand?" He asked the last very softly, but so very intensely.   
  
Swallowing a lump in his throat, Obi-Wan nodded. He understood perfectly. If Qui-Gon did not come for him before the quarter was out, he would have no choice but to make the lifetime Pisan agreement. If he did not agree, Avon-Durr would make his death a certainty. And that was out of the question. He had a destiny to fulfill.   
  
One whole quarter. Until then, Obi-Wan had been thinking in terms of days. He believed that he would be free eventually; it was somehow a part of Durr's plan. But now, he was becoming afraid that he would be irrevocably damaged by the time he did return to Qui-Gon. Resolutely, he forced down his rising panic and listened carefully to what Ison Laridian had to say.   
  
"Cason, Eron, do you understand?" Both boys nodded solemnly, and their father continued. "Do not mislead him. He needs to know what it will mean to be your Pisan so that he can make the right decision. But remember to be gentle with him. Be intuitive to his pleasure. He cannot tell you because of the damage to his throat in that shuttle accident. You must pay attention to him. Treat him well, show him the respect he deserves, and you will all be very happy."   
  
"We understand," Cason replied earnestly.   
  
Ison swept his gaze over all of them one more time, then inclined his head, said goodnight, and left the quarters. The boys turned to Obi-Wan and smiled, obviously trying to make him at ease.   
  
"Well, Obi-Wan. We did promise you that tonight would be for your pleasure only. And we meant that," Cason reminded him. He took his hand and led him to the bathing room. "We'll start with a hot bath. You'll feel much better and much more relaxed."   
  
Eron turned on the taps for the large sunken tub while Cason showed Obi-Wan the rest of the room. There was a long counter with a mirror over it, and two sinks. There was also a roomy shower stall, and what Obi-Wan assumed was a closet turned out to be a small steam room. When they turned from the steam room, Obi-Wan saw that his bath was nearly full.   
  
He knew it was ridiculous to wish for the boys to leave. They would likely be... fondling him very soon anyway, assuming that since he'd chosen to prostitute his life away that he was inclined to want such pleasure. He couldn't help but pray for the moment of his first indignity to be put off as long as possible.   
  
No such luck. Gentle hands began to peel the silk tunic he wore from his shoulders. Soft lips skimmed from behind his ear and down his throat, skipping past the damnable collar. Don't panic, he commanded himself. Don't panic, they won't hurt me. They promised.   
  
While Cason caressed his bare back, Eron knelt to remove his boots. He had to balance himself by putting his hands on the young man's shoulders. Eron smiled and murmured a soft "That's it," as the boots came off and were pushed aside. Then the young man's hands moved slowly to the waistband of his leggings.   
  
Obi-Wan couldn't help it. Nervousness and the fingers dancing along his shoulder blades conspired to make his penis begin to firm. Oh no, he inwardly groaned, knowing they would think he wanted their touch. With great care, Eron pulled the waistband back from Obi-Wan's taut belly and pulled down. His shaft bobbed free and the soft leggings brushed his legs as the boy pulled them off.   
  
"Very nice, Obi-Wan," Eron grinned as his fingertip quickly traced the large vein that traversed his erection. "And what fine balls," the boy added as he fluttered his fingertips along Obi-Wan's perineum and then gently held his testicles. Involuntarily, they drew up and tightened at the attention. Obi-Wan was mortified, but Cason and Eron seemed enraptured.   
  
"Come, let's get you clean," Cason whispered into his ear. Obi-Wan shivered, but nodded obediently and allowed himself to be led to the tub.   
  
He had to admit that the bath was relaxing. The hot water helped to loosen muscles made tight with apprehension and fear. It also helped that the twins' attention turned to the more practical tasks and cleansing him and massaging his back and shoulders. However, Obi-Wan didn't relax to the degree that he allowed himself to hope that this night would end without something happening to turn him inside out.   
  
As they bade him stand and climb out of the tub so they could dry him, Eron playfully tugged at his Padawan braid. "A Daronian custom?" he asked. For a second, Obi-Wan was confused. Oh, Darona, his supposed home world. The boy's assumption confirmed to Obi-Wan that they had never encountered a Jedi Padawan. It was entirely possible that they were unfamiliar with the Jedi altogether. Pilani had had little need for Jedi intervention in the last decades. Another hope, slight as it might have been, that he'd be recognized for what he truly was, was dashed. To answer Eron's question, Obi-Wan could only nod.   
  
"You miss your home, we know. We're going to try to help you with that, Obi-Wan," Cason told him sincerely as he rubbed the soft towel over his back.   
  
Eron then picked up his braid again and this time brushed the end of it teasingly over Obi-Wan's dusky nipple. Surprise at the gesture and the purely physical reaction of his flesh made the little nub harden. "Very nice, indeed," Eron grinned, before he picked up another towel to help finish the drying.   
  
The boy used a soft touch as he dried Obi-Wan's confused genitals. Alternately obeying his command to remain flaccid and then momentarily firming again with the unavoidably arousing attention, his penis and balls grew highly sensitized.   
  
The caress of a single fingertip to his pelvic bone drew Obi-Wan's eyes downward. Ah, so that was what had been itching him under his leggings all day. Avon-Durr had tattooed him. Of dark blue ink, it looked like the silhouette of a tropical bird.   
  
Eron traced the tattoo with something Obi-Wan could only think of as reverence. Unaccountably, Obi-Wan shuddered. Eron glanced up him, a tender expression lighting his vivid eyes. "That you have already give n yourself the mark of the Pisan honors me, Obi-Wan." Never more than that moment had Obi-Wan wanted to shout, I'm not a Pisan! I'm just an arrogant boy who thought turning eighteen automatically made me a man...   
  
Misinterpreting his distress, Cason embraced him from behind, meant to be a comforting gesture. "We'll be happy, Obi-Wan, all of us. Eron and I will make sure of it," he whispered in what could have been a soothing tone, if Obi-Wan had allowed himself to accept it. Taking another moment to still his trembling, Obi-Wan finally closed his eyes and nodded once, very slightly.   
  
He again tried to shut down and feel nothing inside as he was led, still naked, back to what was to be his bed. He didn't doubt that Cason and Eron were genuinely interested in his comfort and physical pleasure. But he also knew that their efforts would be futile. A true Pisan would be lucky to have this situation with the Laridian family. For Obi-Wan, though, the gentler they were with him, the more his stomach ached. How could he pretend that he wanted this?   
  
Remembering Avon-Durr's warning not to blow his cover, he tried to be as pliant as his anxieties would allow. Thus, it was easy for the brothers to arrange him on the soft comforter to their satisfaction. Lying on his belly, he had a fluffy pillow under his hips and he rested his cheek on his forearms.   
  
Cason curled up beside him and tenderly stroked his cheek while Eron knelt between his slightly spread legs and began to massage his shoulders and back with warm oil. He felt some of tension begin to bleed away, and that frightened him. He was supposed to remain appalled, wasn't he? He was not supposed to relax. This was against his will, whether these sensuous and gentle young men knew or not, it was against his will...   
  
"We want you to feel so much, Obi-Wan."   
  
No, you don't, he inwardly quailed.   
  
"We want you to float away on the sensations we give you."   
  
Please, don't.   
  
"And then we want you to float back to us, feeling safe and warm."   
  
It can't happen.   
  
Please don't make me feel!   
  
Hands slightly callused from work on the combat staffs worked their way down his spine to the curve of his buttocks, while fingertips traced his cheekbones, eyebrows and lips. "Let yourself go." Cason whispered.   
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the sensory conflicts battling within him. "Let yourself feel it..." He didn't want to! He wasn't supposed to! Not here, not with them... It was so wrong!   
  
Warm hands separated the mounds of his rear, and a puff of cool air wafted over his anus. What was Eron going to do to him?   
  
A moist, hot tongue flickered over his opening, giving him an answer as well as a jolt of sensation that raced from his anus to his balls and firming cock. Immediately, the tongue laved him again and then wriggled its way inside him. Oh Force. It was so intimate... too intimate!   
  
Please, don't make me do this!   
  
Even as he thought it, the sweet thrum of arousal warmed his loins and made his heart pound.   
  
"Easy, Obi-Wan," Cason's voice lulled. Warm, soft lips then surprised him when they brushed his cheek, and he realized that a tear had trickled from his clenched eyelids and the young man had kissed it away.   
  
He couldn't scream, he couldn't cry out, he couldn't even whimper... but that damned collar couldn't prevent his breaths from bursting out of him raggedly, and they did, as Eron's tongue slid in and out of him and laved him with a passion Obi-Wan couldn't ignore.   
  
"That's it, our sweet one, let it go."   
  
Oh. Oh. The tongue had slowly pulled out, and Obi-Wan was turned on his side, his uppermost leg draped over Eron's shoulder so that the boy could lick and kiss his balls. Eron also slid a finger into Obi-Wan's wet opening.   
  
Cason continued his soft kisses to Obi-Wan's face, while his brother licked his way up Obi-Wan's undeniably throbbing shaft, Eron's soft hair tickling his thighs and groin.   
  
"How is he?" Cason asked his brother as his lips skimmed Obi-Wan's forehead.   
  
"So sweet," Eron whispered to the leaking tip of Obi-Wan's erection. Then he swiped the gathered moisture with his tongue and pulled the head into his mouth, engulfing Obi-Wan in moist heat and reluctant bliss.   
  
Oh, all the little gods, it was wonderful! Sensation was pulled from him with every suck of that talented mouth and he was powerless to stop it. His traitorous cock didn't want to stop it, and strained past the boy's eager lips, searching out more of the suction and wet warmth. His bottom was fondled all the while, the full feeling from Eron's finger adding to the building climax of swirling sensation.   
  
"Come for us, Obi-Wan."   
  
In the pleasure fogged corners of Obi-Wan's mind, he knew it was a command for him, as Pisan. But as a Padawan, it was his duty as well, was it not? He could do this... he could let his body feel if he made his heart go numb... It was his duty to see this through, and he could only do that if he came... it was his duty to come... Oh, gods, he had to come...   
  
Sensation gathered in his balls, sending an order to his synapses to fire at will.   
  
With a gusty exhalation, Obi-Wan came hard, Eron's mouth taking in his seed with gulps and moans. His body shook with the intensity of his climax, and Cason stroked his hair and murmured words Obi-Wan couldn't understand, to soothe him.   
  
Eron's finger inside him crooked in just the right direction, sending one last rocket of sensation that dispersed into a thousand little aftershocks as his orgasm gradually waned.   
  
Shaking. He couldn't stop shaking. What had he done?   
  
Zaps of pain to his throat were Obi-Wan's first clue that he was crying out loud. Cason wrapping his arms around him to rock him and shush him was Obi-Wan's clue that he didn't think he could stop. Eron kissed his thighs and stroked his hip all the while, making his own soft sounds of comfort.   
  
He finally had the brain capacity to realize that these compassionate boys would hold him and comfort him all night, if that's what they thought it would take. He couldn't handle that. So he did what he had to do, and he gradually pulled himself together.   
  
Once the sniffling came to a close, Eron sat up and cupped Obi-Wan's face in his hands. "Thank you," he whispered, then tilted Obi-Wan's head down and kissed his forehead.   
  
"Now, let's get you comfortable, shall we?" Cason tugged him to the head of the bed and pulled back the covers for him. Numbly, he slid underneath and let the doting brother tuck them down around him. "Will you be alright?"   
  
Obi-Wan blinked his answer. Yes, he'd be alright. They were going to leave him to let him sleep.   
  
"Good. We'll see you in the morning."   
  
Both boys stroked his hair just once, then left him for their own room.   
  
He was warm, alone, and as safe as he could expect. There was still a residual tingle in his groin, but he ruthlessly ignored it. He didn't want to think about how he felt. Not now. Best way to avoid thinking, he decided, was to sleep. He was out in minutes.   
  
******************   
  
Waking was a slow, lazy process. His head felt heavy and his eyes just did not want to open. Then came the disorientation, the long moment of wondering where he was. When his memories returned, he decided that his eyes could do as they pleased. They remained closed.   
  
Try as he might, he just could not make himself go back to sleep, though. His head pounded and he realized it was from entirely too much sleep already. His bladder accused him of that as well. Reluctantly, he threw off the covers and stumbled toward the bathroom.   
  
The yawn that escaped as he relieved himself caused him to have an accident; the unconscious noise in his throat had sent a sharp, painful reminder to keep his silence and had made him jerk, causing his aim to veer. The thought of having to clean up his own piss sealed the deal on his utterly sour mood.   
  
Grumbling to himself, with as little noise as possible, Obi-Wan set about wiping away the stray urine and then tossed the dirty towels into the linen chute-- with exaggerated force. It was after that, when he turned and caught sight of his nude reflection in the bathroom mirror, that all of his emotion from the evening before came crashing into his bitterness of the morning.   
  
He stared at himself, dumbstruck. He'd allowed himself to be fondled, licked and sucked in the most vulnerable position imaginable just the night before, under the flimsy guise of duty and he was angry over wiping up a little piss? It hadn't even occurred to him until that moment that he had been wandering around those quarters, naked as the day of his birth and hadn't even thought to go grab some clothes.   
  
He decided to do just that, realizing that if he'd slept as long as he suspected, that the twins and their family had risen long ago. Ison Laridian had thought nothing of coming right into the boys' quarters the night before, and he had no idea if Risa would feel just as free to do the same. He would not purposely keep himself on display for the whole damned family.   
  
Selecting the most practical leggings and tunic left from what had apparently been taken to be altered, he quickly donned them-- in the privacy of the bathroom-- and found his boots. Suddenly, he realized that he didn't even know if he would be allowed out of the quarters without an escort. If the boys weren't in the common room, he'd have to wait for them.   
  
It was confusing to realize that he was as relieved as he was nervous to hear their voices as he neared the door. Having to palm the door, he couldn't just tip it open a little and gauge his welcome. It was unnerving to have it swish open quickly to announce his presence immediately.  
  
Of course, the young men turned to him right away, stopping their spar mid-swing. Their expressions registered surprise.   
  
Obi-Wan felt himself blush fiercely, mostly from his self-censure. He argued with himself in circles; he was not dealing with his fears, if merely going to the common room conjured this much anxiety, and yet it was perfectly natural to be cautious about testing his boundaries, was it not?   
  
"Obi-Wan! Did you sleep well?" Cason broke the brief silence and both boys walked closer to him, their twin expressions friendly.   
  
Obi-Wan nodded and smiled wanly.   
  
"I'm relieved," Eron said, and seemed to mean it. "We were... worried about you. We know that the adjustment to Pisan isn't always easy."   
  
He ducked his head.   
  
"Umm. Obi-Wan?" Cason's soft words brought his eyes back up. "You don't have to wear the utility clothes unless you want to. You may wear the silks and velvets whenever you wish. We want you to be comfortable and to know that you will have nice things."   
  
Obi-Wan's smile was more genuine at that. He plucked at the tunic and wrapped his arms around himself to show that he liked these 'utility' clothes and that he thought they were nice enough.   
  
"Oh, you like those, eh? Then whatever you wish, Obi-Wan," Eron laughed.   
  
Obi-Wan pointed to the mat and then the rack of combat staffs, painting a hopeful look on his face. He didn't think he would offend them by asking if he could use the facility; Pisans were voluntary slaves, so there wouldn't be much reason for revolt and thus a need to fear a Pisan learning a potential weapon.   
  
"Oh! You want to learn to use a Pilani staff?" Cason guessed, looking surprised, but not displeased.   
  
Obi-Wan nodded vigorously. Both boys grinned. "Of course, we'll show you."   
  
"Have you had any training at all, Obi-Wan?" Eron asked, slight concern in his voice.   
  
Obi-Wan injected some mischief into his answering nod and grin.   
  
"Well, then," Eron replied, an impish expression of his own. "Let's see what you can do, shall we?"   
  
Obi-Wan selected a staff, turned to the boys and twirled it theatrically, knowing he was showing off just a little, but enjoying the sense of... pure boyhood that was in the air, as opposed to the undercurrents of sexuality that had constantly nagged at him. He went through the first few steps of an aggressive staff kata, feeling good as he sent a few thrusts to a non-existent opponent. It would have felt almost normal if he could really tap into the Force...   
  
When the boys burst out into uncontrollable laughter, he stopped in his tracks, dejection weighing him down immeasurably, though he didn't understand what was so fucking funny.   
  
"Oh, Obi-Wan. I'm sorry, we didn't mean it," Cason hastened to his side, caressing his heated cheeks with the backs of his fingers. Obi-Wan was really beginning to despise that Pilanian habit of theirs. He lowered his head even more. "Obi-Wan, please," he asked, lifting his chin with two fingers.   
  
"We didn't mean to laugh at you. You didn't *do* anything laughable. You are... you were, rather, a warrior? Is that what you would have been, if not for your choice to be a Pisan?"   
  
Obi-Wan nodded, a damnable tear gathering in the corner of his eye.   
  
Eron nodded knowingly. "That's why you assumed the staffs are for combat, yes?"   
  
He blinked and nodded curtly, 'yes'.   
  
"An understandable mistake, our sweet one," Cason assured. "Pilanian staffs such as these are for dance. They would be damaged if they were to be knocked about and against one another. You cannot tell when they inactive, Obi-Wan, but these staffs are special. They're made from the bark of a Teesi tree. When the dance is perfect, they... Well, why don't you watch for a while. That's the best way to learn. Will that be alright?"   
  
Obi-Wan inclined his head yes and sat on the floor, away from the mats, but with a clear view. As he took a deep breath to try to regulate his careening emotions, Cason and Eron took position opposite one another.   
  
The young men started with what looked like a kata that he himself might have done as an initiate. It gradually picked up pace as the boys synchronized perfectly. Before Obi-Wan knew it, the young men were swirling, their staffs swinging in graceful arcs along with their bodies, sometimes missing one another by a hair, but always timed perfectly to avoid disaster. Then the staffs... they began to glow, as if from within, a white light that dispersed from inside the staff to light it from end to end. It looked as though there was some sort of strange energy that seemed to pour into the twins and make them move even faster, even more gracefully, too. It was like a rapid, breathtaking... dance...   
  
The faster they danced, the more Obi-Wan could hear the soft whistling of the staffs. Musical accompaniment that always matched the tempo of the boy's steps.   
  
It took a moment for Obi-Wan to realize it when they began to slow down. And when they stopped, dead still, each had his staff at the other's throat and they were but a breath apart. Simply stunning, Obi-Wan thought.   
  
When Cason and Eron turned to him, they grinned widely, obviously aware that they had performed impressively.   
  
"Do you want to learn?" Cason asked. Obi-Wan nodded yes, feeling as humbled as he should, but not defeated.   
  
"Good," Eron picked up. "Then how about this? We teach you to dance with the Pilanian staffs, and you teach us those warrior forms you know? We'll have to get some true combat staffs, of course," he added with a teasing grin.   
  
Obi-Wan inclined his head, silently chuckling.   
  
"Now that that's settled, you must be famished. Let's get you something to eat."   
  
~*~   
  
Obi-Wan was right when he assumed he'd slept away too much of the day. The promised food turned out to be mid-day meal, actually taken a little late. Risa Laridian welcomed all three of them at the dining table and was especially attentive to Obi-Wan, wanting to be sure he'd slept well his first night, and asking about his favorite foods for mid-day meal. It was difficult, as Obi-Wan could really only nod yes or shake his head no to food selections.   
  
After a time, though, Risa's attention to him made him uncomfortable. He didn't quite understand why, but her sympathetic behavior toward him was a sharp and constant reminder of his true purpose with the Laridians. It was just so unsettling to see her gazing at him with her warm, violet eyes and know that she was thinking of him servicing her sons.   
  
The promised tour of the grounds that took place after their meal was invigorating, and it was a relief to be out from under Risa's watchful eyes. The gardens were as spectacular as he'd imagined from the view in the twins' room. It made him mourn his loss of the Living Force, but it also forced him to stop, smell and appreciate the foliage on a sensory level. It made him think of Qui-Gon. And it hurt. His Master was always so outwardly patient with him and often approached Obi-Wan's mistakes with subtle, teasing humor. How could Qui-Gon find any humor in this, though? Though there would be no subtle teasing this time, Obi-Wan knew that Qui-Gon would not be truly harsh with him once he was found. He wasn't sure if that helped or made it hurt inside even more. All Obi-Wan knew was that he missed him. So much. He allowed himself another moment to pray that his Master would find him soon, so he could begin to atone. The burden of his Pisan pretense would wear on him with each passing day.   
  
    Over the next several days, Cason and Eron continued to focus their sensual energies on pleasing Obi-Wan. They'd not asked for anything to ensure their own pleasure. In fact, Obi-Wan had only seen them disrobed from the waist up. That fact disturbed him as much as it gave him some measure of relief; he'd not been forced into an act of service for them, and yet he couldn't help but feel more vulnerable because of his frequent nakedness compared to their more common state of dress.   
  
He had to admit, though, that once he acknowledged how unavoidably pleasurable their attentions were, he was more at ease. He was able to stave off the guilt of his enjoyment. Of course he enjoyed it, he reasoned with himself. The boys were talented technically, and were attentive personally. He couldn't help his body's response. So he allowed the natural physical reactions of his body to occur... he merely closed down his mind's reaction. And his heart's.   
  
Instinctively, though, he knew that the time was approaching in which Cason and Eron would need more for themselves. He couldn't turn his mind away from that.   
  
Obi-Wan had been there a week and a half when he finally found himself faced with pleasuring one of the boys. It startled him when he realized that not only was he willing, but that he craved the response he would receive for his efforts. It would make him feel less vulnerable; less like he was giving more and more of himself away.   
  
On all fours, with Eron behind him kissing his way to Obi-Wan's opening, he watched as Cason slid his own leggings down his thighs. A long, lean cock sprang free, the shaft silky-looking and the tip gleaming. Cason pulled his leggings off and laid himself down on t bed, scooting down and spreading his legs until Obi-Wan was between them and staring down at the tempting groin. The pinkish balls were hairless, though there was a thatch of dark, tight curls as the base of the boy's cock. Curious, Obi-Wan bent to rest on his elbows. Eron's tongue probed him deeply as he moved, fueling Obi-Wan's lusty fixation, and he flicked his own tongue over the smooth testicles under his lips.   
  
The gasp that his tongue elicited pleased him. With a smile, he lapped again and tasted more of the young man's spicy flesh. It wasn't difficult to allow his tongue to travel Cason's hardened length and to then cover the moist head of his cock with his mouth.   
  
The tongue playing at his own bottom sent sparks of encouragement throughout him, and he began to suck. Cason was surprisingly sweet. Obi-Wan's palate came to life as drops of pre-ejaculate dissolved in his mouth. Fingertips skimmed his ears as he sucked with more and more enthusiasm. The moans and whimpers sounded wonderful to him, too.   
  
With an uninhibited cry, Cason exploded in Obi-Wan's mouth, and he swallowed every drop.   
  
He released Cason's penis and rested his forehead on the boy's hip. Eron had pulled his tongue free of Obi-Wan's opening, and he rested his head on the small of Obi-Wan's back.   
  
"You're ready, now, Obi-Wan, to take this to the next level," Eron whispered.   
  
Obi-Wan shuddered. He'd be taken now.   
  
He supposed he was ready for it. Dreading it had made him feel almost relieved when Eron had finally proclaimed the time right. But when the boys escorted him to the bathing room, apprehension rose in him again, making its presence known in the fluttering of his stomach.   
  
Cason draped a huge, warmed towel over his shoulders and smiled in his soothing way. "You're new to this expression of lovemaking. This step won't be necessary once you get used to it, I promise you." Instinctively, Obi-Wan's breathing quickened.   
  
Cason led him to the sink and gently bent him at the waist, asking him to pillow his cheek on his forearms. He could only see Eron peripherally, but he thought he spotted a length of thin tubing in the boy's hands. Cason leaned over beside him and tenderly rubbed the towel over Obi-Wan's shoulders, settling it over his back as well, and all the while spoke to him in a soft, steady voice.   
  
"You must trust us. Eron and I went through the same thing when we went for training with the courtesans. It's not meant to embarrass you. But it is necessary for the time being. And I meant it, Obi-Wan, it is only until you are used to this type of lovemaking."   
  
Eron came to stand next to them as well, and grazed his fingers over Obi-Wan's hot cheeks. "Just be still, stay relaxed, and it will be over soon." The twins' lilting cadence couldn't dispel the nervous rumbling in his stomach, though.   
  
Obi-Wan kept his eyes locked to Cason's and became supremely aware of his sense of vulnerability, having his upper body covered with warmth, but his bottom exposed and raised. When Eron tapped his inner thighs in a silent request to spread his legs, his entire nether region tingled with that strange amalgam of nervousness and arousal. How could he be aroused and... humiliated at the same time?   
  
Without realizing it, he reached one hand, crossed under his head, toward Cason. He only noticed he'd done it when Cason gripped it, lending support. The boy smiled at him, fondness lighting his eyes, and tightened his grasp. Not humiliation, then. He saw it in the affection that softened the young man's face even more than usual, and he heard in the melodic voice that continued its soft litany of promises.   
  
He knew they would never consciously hurt him, even as he felt the first nudge of the thin, lubricated nozzle against his anus. His eyes widened at it slid deeply inside of him, and as Cason whispered a soothing "That's it," Eron caressed his bare bottom.   
  
His mouth dropped open in surprise when he felt the warm water gush into his bowels. Oh gods... it was so uncomfortable, that sensation of being so full, so suddenly. "It's okay, soon, Obi-Wan... it'll be over soon..." Still, more water filled him. He held it in, but the distress heightened. That was it! No more! He broke out into a cold sweat, feeling... clammy all over.   
  
"Okay, I know," Cason assured him when Obi-Wan's grip on his hand told him no uncertain terms that that was all he could handle. Eron shushed him as well, and gingerly removed the nozzle from Obi-Wan's rectum, tossed it the sink, and helped him to stand and make his way to the facilities.   
  
The relief he felt upon release was tremendous. So much so that at first he didn't realize the boys had left him in peace for the moment. He was grateful. Although he trusted in their desire to do what they truly thought best for him, he was confused and rather humbled by what had just happened. Another private piece of himself was gone.   
  
He gathered together his composure as he thoroughly cleansed himself, noticing that the boys had swiftly removed the evidence of the tubing and water bag on their way out. As ever, they took his emotional comfort into consideration as much as the physical.   
  
When he palmed open the door to the bedroom again, for the first time since he'd arrived he really had to ask himself... why? Why so completely wrapped up in his emotional well being? They'd purchased him, for pity's sake... was it simply a matter of caring for their investment? And why invest in him of all people?   
  
"Obi-Wan?"   
  
His bewilderment must have been evident.   
  
Heedless of the towel as it fell around his ankles, he raised his arms to his sides, palms open, desperate for an answer, to convey his lack of understanding.   
  
"What's wrong?" Cason asked again.   
  
He lifted them again in question, then pointed to himself.   
  
"Why you? Why did we choose you?" Eron guessed. Obi-Wan gulped and nodded.   
  
Both boys came to him, sympathy and affection pouring off of them.   
  
"Oh, Obi-Wan," Cason began, picking up the towel and wrapping it around him. "We felt your goodness. As soon as we saw you, we felt it. Your goodness, your capacity to love... your devotion to duty... it was all there, plain for us to see, and feel."   
  
Empathic? Just the boys, or a Pilanian trait? They certainly could not presume to know things about him from simply a glance. Eron picked up the explanation as they walked him to the bed and each sat on one side of him. "Mother and father felt it, too. That's why they brought us to meet you. Mother, especially sensed something special about you. She said it was complex, but that she could strongly feel your determination to do what is right."   
  
Obi-Wan glanced from one to the other. They hadn't simply selected a boy they thought was pretty. Inaccurate as their assessment might have been, they had felt something about him that moved them. As much as they'd insisted their caring for him was genuine, and showed their concern for him, he hadn't understood that it could be more than the simple protection of any possession.   
  
He was enveloped in their embrace, and for the first time, he truly knew that it was for more than the value of his body. He suddenly had the feeling that he would be better off if that weren't so.   
  
They did want his body, though, and he couldn't help it that his youth and his emotions naturally caused him to have a physical response to their attentions. Their caresses began to sensitize his skin. Their breath on his neck heightened the tingles in his groin. Their hands began to clutch and gods help him, he began to crave the firmer touch. Yes... He'd continue to concentrate on the physical... they could touch his body all they wanted, but by all the gods, they wouldn't get to his heart. His heart was for Qui-Gon alone.   
  
They laid him back on the bed, Eron spooning behind him, and Cason curling up in front of him. Eron pressed small, moist kisses to his shoulders while his twin dropped many of them onto Obi-Wan's cheeks, jaw and finally his lips.   
  
Right and wrong faded away in the face of physical need as Cason's warm mouth then took control of a deeply passionate kiss, the boy's tongue sliding past Obi-Wan's lips to plunder and taste. A breath stolen from Cason's body sent a shiver of arousal shimmying down his spine. Eron's fingers probing him gently from behind only added to the compounding sensations that raced through his body.   
  
Doubts and guilt slipped away, and Obi-Wan allowed himself to simply feel. He couldn't pretend to fight it any longer; he was going to let go, as the boys had begged of him his first night at the Laridian estate. He was going to let his body feel it all.   
  
Obi-Wan turned onto his stomach, spread his legs, and Eron settled between them. Cason stroked his back and continued to press his lush lips to Obi-Wan's face. Eron's preparations did not take long, as the boy had gradually gotten Obi-Wan used to penetration since he'd arrived. Before long, his bottom was slick, and Eron's fingers were sliding in and out of him with delicious ease.   
  
Eron draped his slender body over Obi-Wan's, his erection nestled between Obi-Wan's buttocks, positioned to work its way into his body. Cason smiled at him and traced the contours of his face with a fingertip while Eron began to press inside.   
  
Oh! He'd thought the boys were of a relatively slender girth... but Eron felt so huge! Obi-Wan felt the young man pause and then nip at his ear while he waited. "Mm. So tight, so hot... It's wonderful, Obi-Wan."   
  
Obi-Wan had to agree. It felt like he was being torn as Eron nudged further inside of him, but the pain couldn't overshadow the pleasure of being enveloped by one sensual brother, and kissed and caressed by the other. Every nerve in his body tingled and came alive as Eron slowly sank into him, not stopping until the curls of his groin were crushed against Obi-Wan's buttocks.   
  
He wanted to move, he wanted to wriggle, he wanted to thrust backward and feel more of the hard shaft lodged inside of him, but Eron locked his arms around Obi-Wan's upper body and rocked so very slowly, while Cason shushed him and whispered to be still, to just feel it.   
  
Feel it. Oh yes, he could feel it. Eron's cock moved in and out of him, drawing sensation from the sensitive nerves of his opening as he pulled out of him, and then feeding sensation back to him as he slid back inside. The intensity built and coiled, just waiting to be sprung, and yet the boys kept him still with their bodies and gentle commands, rendering him helpless against the growing imperative to thrust against the sheets so he could come. Good gods, he needed to come!   
  
Eron shuddered violently over top of him, the quakes of his climax reverberating back to Obi-Wan.   
  
"I know," Cason crooned to him as he fought to remain as still as he was asked.   
  
Carefully, Eron slipped out of Obi-Wan's body, taking with him the warmth that his lean frame had provided him. Uncontrollably, he shivered.   
  
Next to him, Cason stroked his cheek and whispered, "Soon, Obi-Wan. Soon you can come."   
  
Oh. He thought he understood. He'd be allowed to come once Cason had had his turn with him. He clamped his eyes shut.   
  
Softly, Cason chuckled. "You don't understand. I want you to come inside me."   
  
Obi-Wan was surprised, and it must have showed.   
  
Both brothers laughed lightly and Cason explained as he gently turned Obi-Wan onto his back. "Besides that it would be too much to ask to have both of us take you your first time, I happen to prefer this expression of love myself."   
  
Cason gently ran a fingertip along Obi-Wan's sensitive erection. He quivered, eliciting smiles from both twins. "Are you ready? Will you take me now?"   
  
Obi-Wan swallowed hard and nodded. Oh yes, he wanted to bury himself in the eager twin.   
  
He sat up, willing himself to remain in control, and Cason rolled onto his knees and elbows. Gods, he looked so vulnerable, and for the first time, Obi-Wan saw him as an eighteen-year-old boy, with all of the insecurities and anxieties that most boys their age had. Taught by courtesans or not, this was something new for Cason, too, and Obi-Wan wanted it to be good for him.   
  
He knelt behind the young man and tenderly stroked his pale buttocks. He fondled them with growing need, separating and closing them to hide and reveal the small, pink pucker. Unable to resist, he swooped down to lick at the vulnerable flesh, his reward a loud gasp and an endearing flutter of the tiny muscle.   
  
Besides enjoying the spicy, intimate flavor of Cason's body, Obi-Wan was gratified inside in a way he hadn't been before when he realized how much pleasure he was giving the other boy. The pleasant ache that lingered at his bottom as he made love to Cason with his lips and tongue made him realize how much he wanted Cason to enjoy his own ache by the time they came.   
  
At last he pulled his tongue from the laved and wet little hole and straightened. He found Eron watching him avidly and the twin smiled, handing him a tube of lubricating gel.   
  
Cason loosened for him quickly, but Obi-Wan took his time. His cock was not as long as the boys', but he was thicker, and he didn't want to hurt the writhing and expectant young man.   
  
At last it was time, and he was pushing the crown of his cock into the tiny opening he'd lovingly prepared. Oh, he'd never felt anything like it. So tight, so hot, it was like a moist, velvet glove that gripped him and stroked him as he sheathed himself. Cason's moans reached out to him, telling him that Cason was in as much bliss as he.   
  
Unable to hold himself back any longer, Obi-Wan strained into Cason's slim body, burying himself deeply, retreating, and surging in again. Cason began to buck back against him and they fell into a frenetic rhythm until the tension sprang loose at last. Obi-Wan came, hard, spilling his seed in forceful spurts into Cason's trembling body.   
  
As he felt his strength drain away with the aftershocks of his orgasm, he realized he'd not seen to Cason's climax. He tried not to collapse on the boy, but his legs felt like rubber, and he landed half on top of him anyway.   
  
His breathing still ragged, he rolled to his side, his softened penis slipping out at the motion. He pulled Cason against his chest, smiling as the boy fairly purred. He caressed his way along Cason's hip and to the boy's groin. Finding it damp and just a bit sticky, Obi-Wan was relieved.   
  
He was also completely sated and unmistakably exhausted. Eron curled behind him, kissed his cheek softly and snuggled against him. Obi-Wan sighed as the other boy's hair tickled his shoulders, but seconds later he was sound asleep.   
  
*********************   
  
Weeks later...   
  
Obi-Wan woke early and in between the insatiable Laridian boys, as usual. They hadn't crowded him; to the contrary, the habit of the past several weeks had been to fall asleep in a satisfied heap in Obi-Wan's bed and then to gradually roll over and give one another room stretch out.   
  
Stifling a yawn, Obi-Wan crawled to the foot of the bed and climbed out gingerly, so he wouldn't wake the sleeping brothers. As he went through his morning rituals, he had his mind set on trying some open hand katas before the boys woke. He'd taken to the Pilani staff dances well, but it wasn't enough. Not enough to satisfy his body's urge to explode into motion and spar.   
  
He grimaced as he finished shaving. It was as much his heart's urge as his body's urge, to engage in exercise the way he was born to do. He wasn't born to dance with a Pilani staff, and he certainly wasn't born to be pampered and fucked into oblivion every night in the arms of a sultry pair of twins.   
  
They were good to him, and all the gods knew they cared for him, but they were not his family. The Jedi were his family. Qui-Gon was his family. And he missed him so much that his stomach would knot with longing and guilt every time he thought of him. Which was why he had very often just tried not to think of him.   
  
He did get his kata time, and he used it well. He went through several forms that required no use of the Force, and worked himself into a gratifying sweat. He felt much more calm afterward, and found that thinking of Qui-Gon felt right to him, though it brought the usual pangs.   
  
Rummaging the shelves of the common room as his body cooled, he came across a sketch pad and lead pencil. He was never much of an artist, but he had the sudden desire to see a likeness of Qui-Gon. He trusted that his master would be permitted to come for him eventually, but his morning's katas had reminded him that he couldn't forget Qui-Gon any more than he could afford to forget who he himself really was.   
  
"Someone from home?" A groggy voice intruded.   
  
Obi-Wan started, and then realized that Cason was referring to the sketch. It was a decent likeness after all. Suppressing his sorrow, he nodded yes.   
  
"Why don't you write to him?" Eron asked as he tipped the sketch to look for himself, then plopped to the couch.   
  
Obi-Wan's jaw fell open and he nearly dropped the pad.   
  
"Why are you so surprised?" Cason asked with a chuckle, drawing his robe around himself and sitting down also.   
  
Obi-Wan looked from one brother to another. Could he do it? Could it be so simple as that? Sending a communication to Qui-Gon? How closely was Durr watching him? Would he be monitoring parcels leaving the compound as well as communications to Coruscant?   
  
"Obi-Wan, you're not literally a slave; we have explained your misconceptions-- or so we thought. You can write to your family and loved ones, and even visit now and then with your annual stipend," Eron explained softly and leaned over the bowl of fruit left for them by the staff early that morning. "We should have made certain that you understood the figurative terms from the literal ones. I don't like you feeling like a prisoner."   
  
Obi-Wan nodded, distracted. He was still dumbfounded, and he was still trying to process the information the boys were giving him. Would Avon-Durr know it if he tried to send word to Qui-Gon? Sith! What if there was a listening device on his collar, too? What if Durr was listening to this right now? Or worse still, was there a video monitoring device on it? The collar was certainly capable of such devices. Avon-Durr could be waiting at that very second to see what Obi-Wan would do, and he could punch a few buttons on the remote... and then Obi-Wan would be dead in moments. Obi-Wan was more prisoner than the Laridian family could ever imagine. And they were his unwitting jailers.   
  
"Shall I get you a communication pad, Obi-Wan? You could compose a letter and have it sent this afternoon?" Cason offered.   
  
Numbly, Obi-Wan shook his head no. He couldn't risk it. Avon-Durr's game had rules. Obi-Wan was not to attempt escape. Trying to contact Qui-Gon would certainly qualify as such an attempt.   
  
Cason sighed. "If you change your mind, you can let us know. Alright?"   
  
Obi-Wan nodded, his eyes glued to the penciled image of his master.   
  
He looked up when Eron took the sketch from his hands. "What can we do to help you?"   
  
Obi-Wan looked up and into the shimmering violet of the young man's eyes. Sincerity brightened them and Obi-Wan's stomach fluttered. Sometimes it hurt to be cared for so much.   
  
Eron took his face in his hands and kissed him softly, grazing his lips over Obi-Wan's, just enough to tease his mouth. He pulled back after a moment, dropping one last kiss to Obi-Wan's temple.   
  
"Now. How about a shower? You've had another workout this morning, and I think we can help you to feel better when you don't smell quite so... strongly," the boy teased with a whisper into his ear.   
  
He couldn't help but shake a little with his suppressed chuckle. He still missed Qui-Gon and the temptation to attempt to write was strong, but he'd make it through.   
  
  
  
       Oh, Gods. Every time Cason and Eron indulged themselves with Obi-Wan's body, the boys seemed to wring out another impossible layer of sensation from him. Which was fine with him; the more he felt physically, the less he felt emotionally.   
  
This time, he was pushed so far to the edge of pleasure that the tingles almost hurt-- it was amazing. He knelt on the bed, held back against Eron's smooth chest, while the boy fingered his slickened entrance. Cason crouched in front of him and sucked his cock, taking him to the brink and back time and time again.   
  
At last, the twin let go of his throbbing erection and smiled at him wickedly through pink, swollen lips. "Oh, I have something you are going to love," he promised silkily. Obi-Wan shuddered. Would he live through it?   
  
Cason hopped from the bed, unconscious of the motion his tight behind made as he walked naked into his own bedroom. He returned with a silver box, a grin, and an erection that bobbed proudly from the curls of his groin. Eron never stopped the motion of his finger in and out of Obi-Wan's opening, but he 'ooohed' at the sight of the box. Obi-Wan was intrigued.   
  
Sitting in front of him again, Cason opened the ornate lid and Obi-Wan glanced down to see inside.   
  
He gulped. Hard. It took a moment for it to sink in just what the items were, but when it did, he felt his own erection wane. Cason couldn't possibly want what Obi-Wan thought he wanted... Could he?   
  
"Trust me, Obi-Wan." It was as much a plea as a command.   
  
Cason then selected one of the items. It was easily the length of his hard shaft-- had he been hard at the moment. Of surgical steel, it was straight like his sketch pencil but thinner, and with a round stud at the tip.   
  
It was narrower and blunt at the insertion end.   
  
"It won't hurt, I promise. But you must trust me, and remain absolutely still while I put it in."   
  
He locked eyes with Cason and slowly nodded.   
  
He had wanted to close his eyes. He hadn't wanted to watch while Cason inserted the wand into his shaft. But he couldn't help himself. He was fascinated. He was afraid and yet he wanted it so much, he wanted whatever new sensations the boys could ignite in him. He had to watch.   
  
Cason very lightly lubricated the insertion end with a sterile gel and then gently grasped Obi-Wan's now-flaccid penis. He gently rubbed the tip of the wand against Obi-Wan's little slit. Then, so very carefully, he began to press it inside. Oh Gods.   
  
So slowly, the steel wand glided into Obi-Wan's shaft, down, down, burning its way through till it nearly reached the base.   
  
He could feel it, the bizarre sensation of steel inside the shaft of his cock. He watched, mesmerized, as he became erect again. The wand stuck out of the head of his penis by a couple of inches. But as he grew hard, he lengthened around the wand and his cockhead slowly reached the round stud at the tip of wand, his slit caressed by the steel as it moved upward. At last, all that showed from the head of his cock was the stud from the tip of the wand. Cason fondled his shaft with reverence.   
  
Obi-Wan found that he had trouble breathing. He wasn't in pain, and the pleasure itself... was actually minimal; having his penis stimulated from the inside was slightly uncomfortable and wholly unfamiliar. But this... This was so much more than pleasure or pain. This was the discovery of a depth of himself that he didn't understand. This was the realization of how much of himself he had given to Cason and Eron, and how very glad he was that he'd given it to them...   
  
No, that was wrong! How could he be glad to lose himself in this? This wasn't what he was, this was exactly what he'd been trying not to do!   
  
Oh, but it was finally beginning to feel so good. Eron massaged the little place inside him that made him see sparks behind his eyes, and Cason fondled his penis so determinedly, light strokes that teased more sensation from him in steady ripples.   
  
Yes... the sensations, only think about how it feels...   
  
Obi-Wan watched, his eyes beginning to glaze as Cason bent his head. Almost coy, the young man darted his tongue and laved just the stud of the wand, at the tip of Obi-Wan's cock. He jiggled the stud with just the tip of his tongue and Obi-Wan felt the wand inside him shift.   
  
Pleasure began to radiate from his cock, from his anus and rectum where Eron massaged him, and from his balls, which Cason petted and teased with fluttering fingertips. It was so much more than he'd ever felt before. The tingles were sharp, almost burning in their intensity, and his body practically buzzed with rapidly ignited nerve endings.   
  
He was on the edge, and it was razor sharp. Cason's mouth closed over him, surrounding the tip of his very hard cock with moist warmth, and he played with the stud of the wand with his tongue. Oh gods, he was going to come! How could he come with that steel wand inserted into his shaft?   
  
His breathing became rapid with panic and he gripped Eron's forearm, the one holding him to the boy's chest, so tightly that he would surely leave a bruise.   
  
"Easy now," Eron whispered and darted his tongue into Obi-Wan's ear, drawing a shudder that rippled over his body in a shuddering wave.   
  
Cason lifted his mouth from Obi-Wan's cock and took the stud of the wand between his thumb and forefinger. For a moment, he just tweaked the little sliver bead, as though he were stimulating a nipple, twisting the stud gently so that Obi-Wan could feel it moving inside his shaft.   
  
Tears slid from the corners of Obi-Wan's eyes. So much, so much sensation. Almost too much.   
  
Cason then began to pull, so gently, and Obi-Wan watched as the wand was slowly withdrawn from his penis. At last it was free, and Obi-Wan's orgasm was right behind it. The fiery tingles that had been building in intensity all collided together in a mad rush to burst free of Obi-Wan's body. He came in a rapid series of powerful surges, so hard that he convulsed against Eron, his eyes shut so tight that he saw stars and bursts of color behind his eyes-- fiery reds and bright purples.   
  
When at last it was over, he was depleted, body and soul, feeling as if he had nothing left within himself to give. Eron slid his finger from his bottom and eased him to the bed, crooning softly and wrapping him in the soft covers. He felt a tender kiss drop on his temple as he drifted to sleep.   
  
   A cultured, familiar voice called out to him. There was a thick mist and it made the voice echo eerily. I'll find you, the voice promised. He knew he should know this voice, especially as he believed its promise. Panic began to well within him the more he futilely searched the mist. It was warm and dry back in his bed, and Eron and Cason awaited him, but he couldn't stop looking.   
  
Glancing down, he saw he was on a path made of midnight blue cobblestones. He began to follow it, but then next time he glanced down, the stones were blood red. Oh, no! He'd wandered onto the wrong path! How could he do that? There was someone who needed him!   
  
Someone who missed him. Don't give up, the voice begged, more faint than before. He ran, off of the path and into the brush, searching for right path of cobblestones. The brush only became thicker, though, and his arms and legs became tangled. The more he fought to get free, the more the vines and branches clawed and clung to him, refusing to let go.   
  
When he realized he could no longer hear the voice at all, he sagged into the cloying brush, too tired to fight any longer.   
  
  
  
       He woke with a painful gasp and sat up straight, rubbing his eyes to rid them of the weariness of sleep. Cason and Eron still slept soundly on either side of him, but he had the urgent feeling that something was missing.   
  
His dream came back to him, the memory of the cold mist making him shudder. Qui-Gon! He'd dreamed of Qui-Gon but hadn't even recognized his voice. What was happening to him? He would wager his life that Qui-Gon would never forget him. How was it he could so easily forget his Master? The man who'd cared for him, and had taught him what it was to be Jedi?   
  
It was one thing to accept his situation for as long as he had to. It was quite another to immerse himself into this life to the extent that the forgot who he was. Force forgive me, he pleaded. Qui-Gon, please forgive me...   
  
He took his time in the shower, reminding himself that he'd spent too little time in meditation of late. He'd spend a good deal of the morning doing just that, he decided. He'd also dress in his most sensible tunic and leggings, and he'd work his way through any of the katas he could remember that he could perform without the use of the Force.   
  
Dressed at last, he rummaged through the armoire for his boots. The soft-soled shoes and ornate boots the boys had purchased for him were very nice, but they were not truly his. He needed to exercise and fill his mind with his studies.   
  
Where the hells were his boots? They weren't at the bottom of the armoire. Breathing ragged from his building temper, he stomped to the lone closet in the room, threw open the door and knelt, throwing shoes over his head in his search.   
  
"Obi-Wan?" Risa Laridian stood behind him, a puzzled but concerned expression on her pale face. Her sons flanked her, looking equally worried through the grogginess of just waking. Obi-Wan didn't care. He couldn't make himself care, not when his boots were missing.   
  
He stood and threw his arms out to his side.   
  
"What? What's wrong?" Eron asked.   
  
He pointed to his feet, then slapped his palms to his chest. All three continued to look flummoxed. He pointed again to his feet, and then to himself. Mine! He wanted to shout. Mine! My boots!   
  
"You're obviously looking for shoes... A particular pair?" Cason asked.   
  
Trying to calm himself, Obi-Wan took a deep breath and nodded. Then again he patted his chest quickly with his palms.   
  
"Your shoes... these are all your shoes, Obi-Wan, I don't know--"   
  
"Your own shoes? The boots you were wearing when you came to us. Is that what you mean, Obi-Wan?" Risa interrupted her son and ventured a little closer.   
  
He expelled a long breath, relieved, and nodded yes.   
  
"Oh. Obi-Wan. I'm so sorry. They were looking so tattered. We got you some new pairs of exercise shoes and boots... and we sent the old pair to the charity collective in town." Eron explained.   
  
He felt the blood drain from his face. Gone? No. Oh no. Quickly, he felt his cheeks enflame again, with unchecked anger. He began to pace. Then he picked up the new pair of boots and threw them, as hard as he could, at the door to the boys' bedroom.   
  
"Obi-Wan!" Cason shouted a reprimand, the first he'd gotten since he arrived. He turned his coldest gaze to the young man.   
  
"Cason! Arrange to have his boots found." Risa intervened again, sending her sons a sharp look.   
  
"Of course," Cason answered her immediately, head bowed.   
  
"You boys have disappointed me with this. He has given so much of himself, literally himself. Who are you to decide that his last possessions should be taken from him? The things he walked in here carrying are all that he has left of his former life. We will not take what does not belong to us. Is that understood?"   
  
Both boys wore their realization and their shame in their faces and their slumped postures. They made a move to come to him, but Obi-Wan wasn't nearly ready to forgive. He didn't have his boots back yet. He backed away from them, so they stopped where they were.   
  
Risa sighed. "Give him some space. Both of you spend some time in town today, track the whereabouts of his boots and let Obi-Wan have the day to himself."   
  
The boys agreed, quietly, and left with one final, contrite glance in his direction.   
  
Obi-Wan couldn't move. He stood rooted, numb from the inside out as he tried to process what was happening to him. Facts, fears and assertions screamed at him, taking him from the room and into the chaos of his mind. Of all of the thoughts that that spoke at once, jockeying to be heard, the one that was the loudest told him that this wasn't where he belonged, and the longer he stayed here, the slimmer his chances of going to back to where he belonged and who he really was.   
  
"Obi-Wan? They'll find them..."   
  
Risa's voice startled him and he turned his head to her sharply.   
  
"They just didn't understand. Even with the way in which I came into their lives, there are just some things about being a Pisan that they will never truly understand." She spoke softly and ventured closer to him.   
  
What was she saying?   
  
"No, I am not the boys' biological mother. Ison's wife died giving birth to them. He was lonely, Obi-Wan. He had the responsibility of his infant boys and no-one to share his life with. He took me as his Pisan before Eron and Cason's first birthday. He married me when the boys were four."   
  
Obi-Wan knew he was gaping. No wonder she looked at his as if she could see right through him. But to marry a slave? Even with the boys having explained to him that the term slave was something of a misnomer, the thought was boggling.   
  
"It doesn't happen that way with all buyers and Pisans, but it happens more than you realize. Obi-Wan, the word Pisan has no exact translation in other cultures. But to Pilanians, it means a sacrifice of love. It is not uncommon for the sacrifice to lead to a deep and binding love that transcends the purchase of its physical expression."   
  
Did that mean that they expected Obi-Wan's lifetime commitment as a sex object to evolve into a commitment that he truly wanted?   
  
"Cason and Eron prefer men; they will never have children and traditional Pilanian families of their own. Ison and I did not want to take the chance that they would find what they needed on their own. They needed someone stable and good to love, so we went in search of a Pisan to be that for them. Ison and I have done a poor job in ensuring that all three of you understand what this means for you. I had assumed that knowing how I came to be here with them would give them certain insights. I was wrong, and I am sorry."   
  
Obi-Wan swallowed. Risa had explained so much... but it didn't really help him. He'd already sensed that the boys cared for him deeply and respected him. It didn't change the basic truism that he could never be what they needed. He was not a Pisan. He said it to himself over and over. I am not a Pisan!   
  
Risa slipped out of the quarters without another word, giving Obi-Wan the space she'd promised.   
  
***************   
  
A strenuous workout, his inner turmoil and very little food made for an exhausted Obi-Wan. The boys returned late afternoon, filled with remorse that they'd been unable to find his boots. They promised they weren't finished looking yet, though, and Obi-Wan believed them. He no choice but to have faith in them.   
  
Their attempts at reconciliation stopped short of getting physical. They offered gentle, non-sexual embraces and tried to comfort with soft words and promises. Obi-Wan could not stay angry, though the hurt lingered.   
  
They curled up on Obi-Wan's bed for a rest before evening meal, and Obi-Wan fell asleep with ease, letting his mind go blank.   
  
He wasn't sure what roused him, but he thought he heard soft voices outside his bedroom, in the common area. He let himself drift, in between wakefulness and dreaming, where the two sometimes merged. Oh, this part was a dream, he realized, hearing Qui-Gon's voice intermingle with that of the Laridian patriarch. He let himself float closer to the dream, relieved that this time he hadn't forgotten his Master.   
  
"They tried to make him happy, Qui-Gon, but it's become obvious that it will never truly happen. Sometimes the boy cries out his sadness without even realizing it."   
  
"No matter how much your boys care for him, it can't change the fact that this is not his home. It's not their fault." That would be just like Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan thought, to make sure the Laridians didn't blame themselves for their Pisan's unhappiness.   
  
"You'll take him home to Darona?"   
  
"I'll take him home..."   
  
Home? The voices didn't carry that echo of sleep that dream voices did, he realized. Obi-Wan tried to lift the blanket of sleep from his mind. He stretched, his muscles filling with oxygen, and he yawned silently, waking his mind as well.   
  
Sitting up straight, he found himself looking at the solemn expression of Ison Laridian, standing at the edge of the bed, and just behind him...   
  
Qui-Gon? That same crooked smile, and those same large, gentle hands. He was awake, and Qui-Gon was right there, in the bedroom he shared with Cason and Eron-- his room as Pisan.   
  
His jaw dropped as he looked from one man to the other. Qui-Gon slowly inched forward until he was beside Ison.   
  
No, this wasn't right. His Master didn't belong here! Qui-Gon was from his Jedi world, this was his Pisan world, they shouldn't... his worlds had collided, realities clashed, and two very different Obi-Wans warred with one another.   
  
The Padawan wanted to leap up and embrace his Master and then wait for the rebuke over his behavior on Alderaan that got him kidnapped. But he was... he couldn't lie to himself; he'd become a Pisan, willing from the outset or not. He'd been with the boys for almost a quarter, he'd let them love him in myriad ways and positions in that time, in this very bed.   
  
Cason and Eron roused next to him and sat up as well, drowsiness instantly banished.   
  
"Boys, this is Qui-Gon Jinn. He's from Obi-Wan's home world."   
  
Cason turned to Obi-Wan, worry already in his eyes. "The sketch. The is the one from your home that you missed so much."   
  
"You're leaving us," Eron breathed, only a hint of accusation in his eyes.   
  
Obi-Wan nodded, caught between four gazes that settled on him. He was only shirtless, but he'd never felt so naked, so exposed. What did each of these men see when they looked upon him? What would Obi-Wan see if he looked upon himself? What did he do now? Surely this dreadful silence wasn't stretching out as long as Obi-Wan thought it was?   
  
"Cason, Eron... Qui-Gon is indeed here to take him home." Ison broke the news without preamble, but in a soft tone.   
  
Both boys looked stricken.   
  
Obi-Wan's felt as if his heart was crushed. All this quarter, he'd been waiting for the time when Qui-Gon would find him and take him home, away from what he'd allowed himself to become.   
  
But until that very moment, he hadn't thought once about the emotional investment that Cason and Eron had made in him. They'd expected Obi-Wan to be with them for a lifetime. Obi-Wan had known all along it would eventually end. The boys had not.   
  
"Look into your hearts, boys, and look into his again. He can't ever be happy here, not the way he should be. He belongs at his real home, and Qui-Gon can make that happen."   
  
Cason and Eron turned their gazes to Qui-Gon. He saw his master quirk an eyebrow, very subtly. The boys must have been reading his emotions, and from the look of it, Qui-Gon allowed it.   
  
"You'll care for him," Eron said, his voice slightly cracking and yet still managing to make his words a command.   
  
"I will," Qui-Gon promised.   
  
Obi-Wan turned to Cason. A tear leaked from the other boy's eye as he spoke. "We love you and we want you to be happy. Even if being happy means leaving us."   
  
Obi-Wan moved off the bed to fully face the twins. For the first time, he really truly allowed himself to see the compassion within them. He hadn't needed the Force to see, he'd only needed to open his eyes. He'd been much more than their bed toy; he'd been the hope of a lifetime of physical and emotional fulfillment. They'd learned more from Risa than she'd realized.   
  
For the first time, Obi-Wan truly realized that Cason and Eron were as much Avon-Durr's victims as he and Qui-Gon were. The boys had lost a lifetime companion, Qui-Gon had lost his Padawan, and Obi-Wan? He supposed he'd lost himself.   
  
His hand shaking, he caressed Eron's cheek, with the back of his fingers. It was the first time he'd returned this Pilanian gesture of affection. Then he turned to Cason, the other boy's tears already falling a little more freely. He repeated the gesture, his heart clenching when the young man inclined into the touch so very subtly. One last kiss to each forehead and he turned to his Master.   
  
"Shall I take you home now, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon's eyes were gentle, but he could see more than a little confusion in them.   
  
Obi-Wan nodded and padded to the dresser to search for his old tunic. He then looked down at his feet. The feet of a Pisan?   
  
"Perhaps you're looking for these?"   
  
Obi-Wan turned. Qui-Gon held his boots.   
  
His throat constricted as he went to retrieve them. He didn't know if Qui-Gon could understand him, with the interference of the collar, but as he took the boots, he projected a heartfelt thank you.   
  
He was rewarded with a ruffling of the spikes of his hair, followed by the familiar gesture of Qui-Gon smoothing them down again. Oh. He'd missed that so much.   
  
  
  
    Eron and Cason had remained in the common room of their quarters when Obi-Wan left. He'd seen Risa briefly as Ison escorted them to the elevator. She'd smiled sadly, but her eyes seemed to tell him that she understood.   
  
As he boarded the shuttle to the spaceport with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan looked up towards the boys' quarters of the estate. They were pressed against the wide window watching him. He stood for a moment, even at this distance able to tell one twin from the other. Cason's head was bowed a little lower, and Eron's palm was outstretched against the plexiglass. He swallowed the lump in his throat and only turned to go up the ramp when Qui-Gon's hand settled gently on his shoulder.   
  
He followed Qui-Gon numbly as they made their way though the spaceport to the chartered ship that would take them back to Coruscant. He'd thought much of going home, but he'd never imagined what the actual getting there would be like. He didn't imagine that he would feel so awkward, so out of place.   
  
It wasn't until they were settled into their cabin of the ship and had jumped to hyperspace, that he realized what part of the problem was.   
  
Qui-Gon fished around in the inside pocket of his tunic, a soft, "Ah, here it is," escaping his lips as he brought his hand back out. A tiny key.   
  
"Now, let's get this collar off, hmm?"   
  
Oh! Of course. Qui-Gon found the lock easily, and seconds later, the collar dropped to the floor with a soft thud. The Force welcomed him with a rush of warmth and life. It felt so good!   
  
"Better?"   
  
Smiling gratefully, Obi-Wan nodded.   
  
"Now, let's see what we have in the galley to eat. Or would you rather rest?" Qui-Gon asked and picked up the collar to put it in his pack.   
  
Obi-Wan shrugged. He was hungry, but he wasn't sure he wanted to wander into the co-pilot or the other passenger, a Pilanian he'd seen boarding.   
  
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon turned from his pack, his expression concerned.   
  
He waited patiently for his Master to ask whatever was on his mind.   
  
"The collar is gone, Obi-Wan. Does your throat hurt?"   
  
Obi-Wan was stunned. Had it really become instinct in so short a time not to speak?   
  
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. What was he supposed to say? His throat didn't hurt, no. He should just let the words, no Master, my throat is fine, spill from his lips. The words never came. Why couldn't he speak?   
  
Qui-Gon's hand settled over his neck, warm pulses of energy making his throat relax. Still nothing. What was wrong with him?   
  
Qui-Gon's hand remained a moment longer, and he felt his Master brush his mind with gentle encouragement.   
  
"Now, try it, please. Just a few words."   
  
He paused.   
  
"I'm sorry." Softly, slowly, a bit gravelly, they came out.   
  
Qui-Gon's eyes settled on him with compassion. "You've nothing to be sorry about. Is that understood?"   
  
Grateful, Obi-Wan nodded. Qui-Gon sighed.   
  
"You'll speak more freely soon. You just need some time to let your mind realize that it won't hurt."   
  
Obi-Wan again nodded, then gathered himself to ask, "Food?"   
  
Qui-Gon smiled, and Obi-Wan had never seen anything so welcoming in his life. "Let's see what they have for us."   
  
  
  
        The Council was slightly less understanding when it came to Obi-Wan's ability to speak. Seeing that he was unharmed physically, they had tried to debrief him immediately upon arriving at the temple. He stood straight beside his Master while Councilors asked him questions. He answered Mace Windu's first question, had he heard of Avon-Durr before the abduction, with a shake of his head.   
  
Adi Gallia's question, did Avon-Durr give any indication of where he could be found on Pilani, other than the Pisan brokerage office he vacated, Obi-Wan similarly answered with a shake of his head.   
  
When he shook his head no to Depa Billaba in answer to whether Durr had explained why he wanted revenge on Qui-Gon, he knew he had finally reached the end of the Council's patience.   
  
Mace Windu leaned forward. "Padawan Kenobi, other than the Force and voice inhibiting collar, you were found not only unharmed, but in a most debauched situation. Your holiday is at an end. Pull yourself together and answer our questions."   
  
Holiday? Rage brewed in Obi-Wan's stomach and made him clench his fists. He had to pretend to whore himself for life in order to play along with Avon-Durr's deadly game, and that Sith-Sucking bastard Mace Windu had the gall to refer to his ordeal as a fucking holiday?   
  
"Obi-Wan!"   
  
He turned his glare to Qui-Gon and saw the alarm in his Master's eyes. For a long moment, he just stared into their blue depths curiously, his anger still bubbling within him. Would Qui-Gon question his ordeal now as well? Then he felt a soothing wash of calm ripple over and through him, followed by a mental shield. Qui-Gon was shielding him from the Council? No, shielding the Council from him.   
  
He turned back to Mace Windu. His dark features were frozen into a tableau of shock. He thought he saw an uncharacteristic smirk from Ki-Adi Mundi, and he was certain he saw a quirked eyebrow from Depa Billaba.   
  
Qui-Gon settled his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders, projecting calm, and addressed the Council himself. "He is not ready for this. He barely slept at all during the five days en route to the Temple; I told you that when I last reported in. Do not trivialize his ordeal."   
  
"Point taken. It would appear that his control of the Force, particularly his temper, has suffered from the effects of that collar." Windu's calm had returned, but he still looked at Obi-Wan with suspicion, it seemed.   
  
"The first thing I'm going to do is take him to the infirmary, and then I'm taking him to our quarters and try to get him to sleep. You will have to make do with a written report from him when he awakens." With Qui-Gon's pronouncement, Obi-Wan finally began to relax. He felt the heat in his face gradually dissipate, but he could not break the compelling eye contact with Mace.   
  
"Contact us you will, when he is able to speak with us, hmm?" Yoda piped in for the first time. In fact, Obi-Wan had barely acknowledged his presence. Odd, but it seemed to Obi-Wan that Yoda had purposely made his presence feel inconsequential until that moment... as if he had wanted to remain detached throughout this meeting. Finally noticing the old Master's presence was what drew Obi-Wan's eyes from Mace Windu's.   
  
"Of course, Master. I'll contact you as soon as I have news of his recovery."   
  
"Very well," Yoda replied, his eyes reflecting a rare softness.   
  
"Then we'll take our leave of you now," Qui-Gon said and bowed shortly, Obi-Wan following suit.   
  
"Be well, Padawan," Yoda added as they were just turning to leave.   
  
Obi-Wan stopped, nodded, and replied "Thank you."   
  
It sounded painful even to his own ears, but it felt important.   
  
During the elevator ride down from the Council's tower, Obi-Wan studied the toes of his boots with great interest. Of course, he wasn't fooling Qui-Gon. "Obi-Wan, do you realize how serious a matter it is, to have a Padawan stolen from us? Right from under our noses? The Council is concerned. You must understand that." From Qui-Gon's tone, Obi-Wan interpreted a light reprimand for his behavior as well an apology on behalf of the Council.   
  
He did understand, but it did not help to have his ordeal whittled down to a decadent romp with the Laridian boys.   
  
"Seems to me, my Padawan, that you need reminding of that fact as much as the Council does." That brought his head up to meet Qui-Gon's eyes. "Yes, Obi-Wan, your shielding is that lacking. Sith Sucking bastard?" Qui-Gon finally chuckled. "I've never quite seen that expression on Mace's face."   
  
Obi-Wan groaned. No wonder Qui-Gon had to erect shields for him in the Council chamber. But what was that about him needing to be reminded that his experience was more than a quarter-long affair? Obi-Wan had been there, he knew it for what it was. He needed no reminding. "Apparently, you do, Obi-Wan. You seem intent on surrounding yourself with guilt."   
  
"Stop it!" He suddenly grated.   
  
"Stop what?" Qui-Gon asked as they rounded the corner to the infirmary tower.   
  
"My... private... thoughts."   
  
Qui-Gon sighed. "Look at it this way, Obi-Wan. You now have incentive to learn to shield again. I'll stop listening to your thoughts and responding to them, when you have more ability to keep them to yourself."   
  
Sith Fucked son of a--   
  
"I heard that."   
  
Qui-Gon entered the main entrance to the infirmary just ahead of a seething Obi-Wan.   
  
  
  
    It was the Healers' conclusion that Obi-Wan's shields suffered most when he was emotionally agitated. Therefore, he was to spend the next three days doing as much relaxing as possible-- as far from other Jedi presence as possible while at the Temple. He would be permitted to submit his report to the Council, via datapad, but he was otherwise not to resume his usual training.   
  
That report and his shielding exercises were to be the extent of his official duties for those three days, until his next follow-up visit to the infirmary. Qui-Gon would check the fitness halls for others before Obi-Wan would be permitted to enter. The good news was that he would have the halls to himself, save for Qui-Gon. He decided that the pool would be his first choice, and hoped Qui-Gon would find some vacant time slots for him.   
  
Released into Qui-Gon's care, he had one more set of instructions. Try to actually sleep. Hmm. Well, he'd have to see about that one.   
  
********************   
  
It was mid-evening by the time they actually reached their quarters. The first thing Obi-Wan did was go to the cupboard of the kitchenette area to retrieve a dust cloth. Qui-Gon grinned at him fondly and explained he hadn't been around much the past quarter. He'd been off planet most of the quarter, looking for his Padawan.   
  
"You found me."   
  
"I did."   
  
Obi-Wan shuffled his feet a little, worrying at the edges of the dust cloth, at a loss for how to continue.   
  
"You were worried that I would not?"   
  
Obi-Wan nodded.   
  
"I think that I actually found you a little earlier than Durr planned. I think he wanted to make you sweat it out, to make you worry more that I wouldn't make it before the quarter trial period. My break was finding your boots once I got the tip to check Pilani."   
  
"What would I have done?" he asked softly, now practically shredding the cloth.   
  
"If you'd had to make the lifetime Pisan agreement?"   
  
His throat tight, Obi-Wan nodded.   
  
"I don't know for certain.. But if you'd thought you'd be killed if you did not agree, I believe you would have agreed. You would not have been held to it, Obi-Wan. I had the luxury of sparing that family the hurt of knowing how you came to them. I could not have spared them that if it came down to bringing you home."   
  
"I. I don't want them to know."   
  
"I know," Qui-Gon replied gently. "And there is no reason for them to. But because of this ordeal, the Republic will be sending a Jedi team to help regulate the brokerage of Pisans who are non-Pilani to ensure that coercion is not a factor. Pilanian empathy did not prevent your dilemma. It might not prevent others."   
  
Sighing, Obi-Wan nodded again.   
  
"Obi-Wan? Is there something else about your experience you wish to share? Or ask about?"   
  
"Pilanians are... gentle with Pisans, and yet, a Pisan is still."   
  
"Still expected to perform sexually? To be available for their owners' physical needs?"   
  
Obi-Wan's stomach began to flutter with nervousness at the topic. He raised his eyes to Qui-Gon's and nodded. He needed to talk about this-- or at least listen to what his Master had to say about the subject.   
  
"Yes. Well, Pilanian culture is quite different from those you've encountered. I have to admit that there are aspects of the Pisan arrangement I don't quite understand myself."   
  
Obi-Wan frowned. Not a satisfying answer.   
  
Qui-Gon grinned and continued. "Oh, my young Padawan. That is one of life's toughest lessons; there is not an answer for everything. However, I can tell you that with Pilanian empathy, it is almost unheard of for a Pisan arrangement to be unsatisfactory for the Pisan or the buyer. It is just the natural order of things for their culture. A person with one need finds another person with a different need. Together they find mutual fulfillment."   
  
"Simple as that?" Obi-Wan was incredulous. It was certainly not that simple for himself. He could not fathom that it was that simple for most Pilanians.   
  
"Not simple, Obi-Wan. It simply is. It is the Pilanian way, and even through difficult adjustments, it works for them. That's why the Republic has been loathe to interfere."   
  
"Now they will. Because of me."   
  
Qui-Gon closed the short distance between them and took the destroyed dust cloth from Obi-Wan's fingers.   
  
"Your experience has shown that when it comes to non-Pilanians, Republic interference is now necessary. This is not another excuse to heap blame upon yourself. Now, sit down at the table while I put together some dinner. We'll worry about getting our quarters into shape tomorrow."   
  
Qui-Gon was right. He was looking for excuses to feel guilty. He'd have to meditate on that before bed.   
  
"As I knew you would."   
  
Obi-Wan bit back an irritated remark about Qui-Gon continually responding to his thoughts. His Master was right on that account as well. He'd have to work on his shielding to be free of that, and it would definitely be incentive. He'd also have to be mindful of his emotional state. The more emotional he became, the more Qui-Gon could hear. His comfort was the knowledge that surface thoughts were much more vulnerable than the private corners of his mind he wanted to remain hidden.   
  
  
  
        For the third time that night, Obi-Wan bolted awake feeling disoriented, confused, and so painfully hard. With an exhausted sigh, he flopped back to his pillow and slipped his hand under his sheet to fondle his balls. He'd had to creep into the refresher many times a night on the transport home to deal with this. At least now he had the comfort and privacy of his own bed.   
  
Needing more than a quick jerk off, though, Obi-Wan cast his eyes around his room. He needed penetration, and he needed it soon. Nothing suitable. Damn it all!   
  
Obi-Wan regulated his breathing and tried to calm himself so that his agitation didn't leak through to Qui-Gon. Last thing he wanted was to wake his Master with this insatiable need.   
  
Well, he at least found a bottle of massage oil, he quietly griped to himself as he settled back on his bed. He'd have to make do with his own finger for the time being, though.   
  
That turned out to be a ridiculous round of groping and shifting on the bed. He could reach between his legs while on his back to get to his opening, but then his arm blocked him too much from stroking his cock. So he settled on his knees instead, sitting upright, and reached behind him with a slick middle finger, and grasped his cock with his other hand.   
  
Not quite big enough, but the full feeling of his finger was welcome anyway. He wriggled it around inside of himself and sighed as the sensations became more and more pleasant. He stroked himself harder, gripping tighter, trying to wring sensation out of himself, yearning for a level of intensity that was so far out of his reach.   
  
At last, the skin of his cock becoming almost raw, he came, spasms gripping his penetrating finger, and spurts of come pouring over his fist.   
  
Panting lightly, his head dropped. It wasn't close to what he needed, but it would help him get a couple hours sleep. He wiped his hands on the towel beside his bed and sprawled under his sheet. A couple hours sleep, and then tomorrow he would figure out how to get what he needed.   
  
  
  
        Qui-Gon was indeed able to secure one of the pool areas for Obi-Wan's use the following day. Although he wasn't supposed to be training, he did relish the opportunity to test other skills that had been neglected due to the collar. He was pleased that he could hold his breath and stay under for nearly as long as before his capture, and that his times on the 100 meter laps had not suffered inordinately. It wouldn't take long at all to get himself back up to par again, and that realization was very appreciated by his fluctuating self confidence.   
  
When he pulled himself out of the water, he saw Qui-Gon smiling at him. His belly warmed and he smiled back.   
  
"You're more centered than you've been since I found you. I barely heard a word you said under there."   
  
Obi-Wan chuckled. "I'm feeling more like me again."   
  
A concerned expression crossed over Qui-Gon's face, briefly and then he was smiling again. A little more gently? "You've always been you, Obi-Wan. It's just that sometimes we discover new aspects of ourselves."   
  
He didn't like the sound of that. Instead of dwelling on it, though, he shrugged it away and nodded agreement with his Master. "Free time now?" he asked with a hopeful grin.   
  
"Yes, my Padawan, you may have your free time. Do be careful, please? Coruscant is home, but until Avon-Durr is found, watch where you go. No going to the lower levels until it's safe."   
  
Obi-Wan bowed obediently. He didn't want to be treated like a child, but he could see the genuine worry in Qui-Gon's eyes. He wouldn't further burden his Master with additional worries about his safety. "Home before evening meal?"   
  
"That will suffice, Obi-Wan, yes."   
  
A quick goodbye with an additional assurance that he would be mindful, and Obi-Wan was turned loose on the whole of Coruscant-- excepting the lower levels. He would not defy Qui-Gon on that.   
  
Of course, that meant that he had to go to more upscale establishments to get what he needed. And that, of course, meant it would cost him more. He sighed as he looked out the window of the sky taxi. He loved watching the air traffic on Coruscant. So many people, all so different, all gathered in this melting pot of a planet. Somewhere in this melting pot, he'd find a retailer who had what he wanted at a reasonable price.   
  
Arriving at a more eclectic shopping district, Obi-Wan exited the taxi and headed for a kiosk to look for shop listings. There. The Frivolous Feather? Obi-Wan had to laugh at that. But it was indeed the place he wanted. The description read: Sensual aids for the discriminating user. Quality products, affordably priced.   
  
Two towers over, 50th floor, the listing showed him. At a brisk walk, he found the moving skywalk to the adjoining towers. Once he found the right floor, he felt like he'd stepped into another world. The floor was certainly colorful, in an artificial way. There was a mixture of cafes, shops and drinking establishments, and the mood of the area was generally carefree, despite the gaudiness.   
  
He found The Frivolous Feather right away. He couldn't miss it with the array of intergalactic phalluses lining the shop window. Well, he sighed to himself, life was constantly surprising him with its diversity and various tastes. He just hoped his little trip to this particular district didn't give him dreams about plastic Mon Calamarian sex organs.   
  
  
  
    His purchases under his cloak, Obi-Wan nodded hello to Qui-Gon and dashed straight to his room. He hoped Qui-Gon didn't notice the color in his cheeks, as much as he hoped his emotions were under sufficient control that he wasn't broadcasting his thoughts. He stashed his new 'sensual aids' in his closet and casually made his way into the kitchenette area.   
  
"Have a nice afternoon?" Qui-Gon asked without looking up from his chopping of vegetables.   
  
"Yes, thank you." Obi-Wan hovered self-consciously in the doorway.   
  
"Well, come have a seat. We're just about ready to eat."   
  
"Can I help?"   
  
Qui-Gon turned to him and with a fond gaze replied, "Thank you, no. Just relax, Obi-Wan."   
  
He sighed and sat. Of course, Qui-Gon could pick up that he was nervous about something. If he didn't want his Master to know the specifics, he'd have to do as he'd suggested and relax. Deep breaths helped him tremendously.   
  
As they tucked in to their meal, Obi-Wan began to watch Qui-Gon curiously. His Master seemed to be regarding him with a rather. indulgent expression. Qui-Gon hadn't looked upon him quite that way for years, it seemed, and yet Obi-Wan wasn't bothered by it. It didn't feel like Qui-Gon was looking at him as if he was a child, it was more like Qui-Gon was looking at him as if. as if he was letting Obi-Wan have his way?   
  
"What's so funny?" Obi-Wan asked, rather defensively, when Qui-Gon began to chuckle as he chewed.   
  
"You, my Padawan. Can't you just accept that I'm happy to have you back-- so much so that for at least a little while I have the desire to indulge you?"   
  
Obi-Wan grinned. "But you don't even know what this particular indulgence is."   
  
"Ah, but I know you. That's enough." Qui-Gon's smile gentled, and Obi-Wan's insides began to melt. Qui-Gon must have been worried sick about him while he was gone. That, Obi-Wan realized, was why he was indulging Qui-Gon's indulgence of him. "I believe," Qui-Gon added, "you just uttered the longest sentence in a long time. I think you're getting better, Obi-Wan."   
  
"I hope." Why did he feel a sliver of apprehension?   
  
"Have faith. I do."   
  
Oh. To hear that from his Master was such a balm. Qui-Gon wouldn't lie to him. If he said he believed, he believed. He felt himself relax again.   
  
"Very good, Padawan. After our meal, we'll run through your shielding skills."   
  
"Excellent idea," Obi-Wan concurred ruefully. Qui-Gon chuckled again.   
  
It was good to be home.   
  
  
  
    It was an exercise in intricate Force control, to use it along with his innate abilities to keep his thoughts to himself. As always, he imagined a large dam as his shielding, his thoughts the water. When he was in turmoil, his thoughts became tumultuous and many of them leaked through the cracks in his shielding that he could not repair quickly enough.   
  
Qui-Gon would help him to relearn that skill. They knelt opposite one another in a meditative position.   
  
At first he felt a little nudge in his mind, Qui-Gon's presence jostling for a position within Obi-Wan's mind. He allowed it, of course. Qui-Gon's presence was comfortable, familiar.   
  
Then he watched as Qui-Gon showed him the weaknesses in the dam that represented his mental shielding. He examined it curiously; he hadn't given it much thought lately. It had become second nature to him, and he hadn't had to.   
  
He gave the dam plenty of thought now, though. He took note of the areas Qui-Gon showed him and, ironically enough, waited to become agitated so that he could test his ability to repair those areas while under stress.   
  
He didn't have to wait long. Qui-Gon sent him a very simple question, one he knew Obi-Wan would not want to answer.   
  
**Where did you go today, Padawan?**   
  
||It was my free time, Master.|| He couldn't help the defensive tone in his mental voice. At the same time, he mentally supported a wobbling blue brick in the dam.   
  
**So it was, Obi-Wan, so it was.**   
  
Obi-Wan mentally sighed and rechecked the weak areas of the shields. The whole point of the exercise was to irritate him into having to fend for his shields himself. He had to remind himself that Qui-Gon understood the point as well and that there was no reason to feel defensive. He was not obligated to answer the questions, just to avoid letting them weaken the dam.   
  
**Would you rather not work on your shields just now, my Padawan? Are you not well enough yet?**   
  
||The sooner I don't have to worry about you eavesdropping, the better.|| He was teasing, of course, but there was an element of truth to that statement, and Obi-Wan was sure that they both knew it. ||And what's this 'not well enough' business? I've hardly been ill.|| Was Qui-Gon still goading him, or did he really think him that weak?   
  
**You haven't been unwell physically, no. But you cannot deny that this has been a trying time for you psychologically. You were without the use of the Force for some time.**   
  
||Not long enough that I need to be. coddled. I'm not a child, and I will continue the exercise on my shielding.||   
  
**No, you are not a child. We'll continue. So, Padawan. what were you hiding under your cloak when you returned to the Temple?**   
  
That was playing dirty. Irritating him, needling him, was one thing. But Qui-Gon had known enough about his Padawan's nervousness earlier to realize that that was not an appropriate topic for this exercise.   
  
**It is highly appropriate if it causes leakage of this degree so early into the exercise.**   
  
Damn him.   
  
**I heard that, too. Focus, Obi-Wan. You see where the weak places are. You have to learn to firm them while distracted by your emotions. Concentrate. Now, where were we? Yes, I remember. I was thinking how curious it was, to see my Padawan race into his room earlier today with barely a hello. In a rush, were you?**   
  
Fuck. That did it. Why couldn't Qui-Gon have chosen something less recent? Less raw? He wouldn't use this lesson to satisfy his own damned curiosity, would he?   
  
**Obi-Wan! Your shields! Concentrate!**   
  
Thoughts tumbled one after the other over a crumbling section of the dam, faster than he could stop them. Thoughts of need, of guilt, of reluctant passion and of inevitable submission to the shameful ache inside of himself.   
  
Obi-Wan shook his head and worked his mind free of the meditative trance. He felt Qui-Gon shielding him immediately.   
  
"Did you see enough? Is that what you wanted?" Obi-Wan accused in a tight, strangled voice.   
  
"No, it is not what I wanted. Obi-Wan, I... I honestly did not realize that you would react so emotionally to this line of questioning. But you knew the point of the exercise, Padawan, and it is obvious that you need to work on this." Qui-Gon's own voice sounded strained as he stood and paced for a moment. Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut to concentrate on calming.   
  
He took a deep breath, then slowly opened his eyes to see Qui-Gon watching him. He looked so... hurt?   
  
"Perhaps you'd do better to work on this alone for the time being. Spend some time in meditation before bed. Concentrate on the foundation of your shielding. Examine how it is built, and in the places where you see that it is weak, use your mind to strengthen it, from the ground up. Only go as far as the foundation for tonight."   
  
Obi-Wan nodded. Yes, understood now. Qui-Gon had helped him to build the foundation of his shields. They became so close at that time, their bond bringing them such intimate and welcome understanding of one another.   
  
He remembered his Master's amusement that Obi-Wan had chosen to visualize a rainbow colored dam. He'd chosen a deep blue to represent its foundation, with gradually lighter colors to represent the protection of whimsical thoughts.   
  
He'd not thought of them in years, the colors of the dam that in his mind made up his shielding. Not until this exercise, when he needed to put his conscious mind to the task. He'd need to work hard to rebuild the foundation, and he'd be doing it this time without Qui-Gon to share the experience with him.   
  
"I'm sorry."   
  
Qui-Gon sighed. "Nothing to be sorry about. You won't let me help you rebuild, for fear that I'll see something inside you that you don't want me to see. Your options are to work through it alone, or to seek help from the healers."   
  
"No healers," Obi-Wan blurted.   
  
Qui-Gon smiled wryly. "That's what I thought, and that's why I asked you to begin tonight alone with your foundation."   
  
Why was this so damned hard? He was so grateful to be home, so grateful to be with Qui-Gon again, why couldn't he just tuck away all of his memories and make this ridiculous need go away?   
  
"Obi-Wan, please try to calm yourself. I'm shielding for you, but you must stop broadcasting."   
  
Qui-Gon knelt in front of him again and grasped his head gently in both big hands. Ripples of Force began to soothe him. After only seconds, Obi-Wan began to feel sleepy, almost like he was drugged. Qui-Gon was mentally sedating him.   
  
There. He felt leaden, but he was calmer. He managed a weak smile.   
  
"Did I just tell you that I didn't need to be coddled?"   
  
"This isn't coddling," Qui-Gon told him softly. "It's helping someone who means a great deal to me. I asked the Council not to trivialize what you'd been through. I'm asking you to do the same. Your wounds are not physical, but that does not make them less painful."   
  
Qui-Gon's hands settled into a caress, and smoothed the spikes of his hair. Just the way Obi-Wan liked.   
  
"Yes, Master."   
  
"There now." Qui-Gon moved away finally and sat across from him. "Anything you want to talk about before you retire to meditate?"   
  
He wished he had something he could talk about. So he could say yes. He knew Qui-Gon wished for him to say yes.   
  
"No, thank you, Master. We'll talk tomorrow?"   
  
Qui-Gon's lips quirked up in a half smile. "If you wish."   
  
They stood and Obi-Wan headed for his room. He stopped after a couple of steps and turned to Qui-Gon. His mouth opened, but no words came out. It wasn't because of any collar this time; it was because he felt lost. His Master was in front of him immediately, and wrapped him in a tight embrace.   
  
Qui-Gon was solid and strong, and Obi-Wan held on to him for all he was worth. This was what he'd wanted to do and yet was afraid to do when he'd woken at the Laridian estate to find Qui-Gon there.   
  
"I am glad to be home," he mumbled into Qui-Gon's tunic.   
  
"As I'm glad to have you home."   
  
"I just need time."   
  
"You have it."   
  
After a murmured thank you and one last squeeze, Obi-Wan was released and he went immediately to his room. 


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan couldn't believe that he'd been fearful of examining his shields. Deep within his mind, he found the steady work patching up the blue foundation to be most relaxing. Mental fingers smoothed over the cracks and holes as he replayed the images of originally building the dam.   
  
He remembered the sheer joy of Qui-Gon's laughter as Obi-Wan unabashedly showed him his most private thoughts. Qui-Gon could have ignored those thoughts and memories, but Obi-Wan, in all his youth and innocence had felt he had nothing to hide from his new Master.   
  
In fact, Obi-Wan was flattered and warmed that a great Jedi Master such as Qui-Gon would even care about the idle and ridiculous thoughts of an eleven-year-old. Oh, but Qui-Gon had assured him that there was nothing ridiculous at all about his young mind.   
  
And there, in the vast and colorful corners of Obi-Wan's mind, Qui-Gon had smiled at him and his eyes had twinkled in the warmest blue that he had ever seen.   
  
Blue.   
  
He'd chosen blue as the foundation of his shields, because Qui-Gon had been the foundation of his young life. He was his constant, his mentor, his friend, his future. Rebuilding the foundation of his shields now was akin to reaffirming his faith in his Master-- and that in turn reaffirmed his faith that he was still Jedi. He hadn't changed as much as he'd feared, despite the mark on his hip that reminded him daily of what he'd become. His foundation had been shaken, but it was still standing firm.   
  
Inside, in many ways, he was the same boy who held the hope of the galaxy within the warm blue of his Master's eyes. So once he banished the part of himself that still stank of his submission as a Pisan, he could let Qui-Gon in again and show him that his faith in him was not misplaced. There would be no traitorous need. He would be fit to fulfill his destiny by Qui-Gon's side.   
  
Once he emerged from his meditation, Obi-Wan breathed deeply and exhaled contentment.   
  
All he had to do was figure out how to satisfy this need he'd developed, so that he could eventually cleanse himself of it.   
  
He very carefully listened to his training bond with Qui-Gon and sensed that his Master was asleep. Good. As long as he didn't get emotional and broadcast, he could test some of his purchases and begin to rid himself of this craving.   
  
The thought alone of fulfillment was enough to arouse interest in Obi-Wan's groin. He smiled ruefully to himself as he quietly extricated his packages from his closet. His throat tightened as he peered inside the first bag. This one contained the vials of oil he had purchased. They were much like the oils they used on Pilani; they were thin but very slick. A little would go a long way. He selected the vial of unscented oil. The shopkeeper had embarrassed him into purchasing a fruit-scented one as well, for variety. Obi-Wan didn't especially want his rear to smell like a fruit-stand at open market, but agreeing had gotten him out of there faster.   
  
Next he reached into his second bag, the one that held his small array of phalluses and wands. He swallowed even harder this time as he pulled out a human shaped phallus. It had the slim girth of the Laridian twins, as well as their nearly fore-arm length. Oh yes, this would do. His erection thickened in anticipation.   
  
He glanced around his room and spotted his desk chair. He ran his hand over the surface of the seat. Just as he hoped, it was just flat enough. It would be perfect. He retrieved the phallus and pressed the suction cup at the base of it onto the desk seat. He wiggled the shaft of the toy experimentally. The suction cup would hold.   
  
Growing more anxious, he quickly stripped out of his leggings and knelt in front of the chair. He oiled himself thoroughly, already enjoying the feel of his own probing fingers. Next he oiled the phallus until it gleamed in the dim light of his room.   
  
Oh, this was it. Finally he'd get the deep penetration he needed. He'd get the intensity of sensation his body craved.   
  
He pushed the chair until the back reached his desk. He put his legs on either side of the seat, his bottom hovering over the phallus, and he braced one hand on the edge of the desk for balance and leverage, the other he used to guide the tip of the rubber penis to his prepared entrance.   
  
Slowly, he lowered himself until he felt the crown of the phallus nudging his opening. Oh yes. He lowered more, forcing the head inside, then he sat, feeling the length of the slick shaft slide so deeply into him. He slowly rotated his hips, enjoying the feel of the phallus as it nudged and probed within him.   
  
Using the strength of his thighs, and the leverage of his hands on his desk, he rose, feeling the shaft glide back out of him. The sensations were good, friction against his opening bringing about a tingle in his groin. Oh, but he wished he had more! He wanted to bend over and feel the phallus plunge into him, over and over without mercy.   
  
He wanted someone behind him to work it into his body, someone to coax the feeling out of him-- Oh yes, that's what he needed. Someone to whisper to him to feel it, someone to make him let go while the pleasure spiked through him with its needle sharp intensity. Someone to whom he could submit the deepest part of himself.   
  
Qui-Gon.   
  
He rose faster and sat harder, desperate for more feeling, more sensation, more intensity. He brought a hand to his hard and aching cock and stroked it firmly, ignoring the burn in his thighs as he tried to increase the pace of rising and falling on the rigid, faux penis.   
  
Sweat began to trickle down his temples and his forehead. Some dripped into his eyes. He didn't care. Harder, and faster his pumped his hand and moved on the shaft, his eyes clenched and stinging. Oh yes, he needed to come.   
  
At last he felt the buildup in his balls and straining thighs. Oh please. he tightened his grip, his head fell back, and his mouth fell open in a silent cry of need.   
  
He felt the sticky dollops spill onto his fist a fraction of a second after the ripples of released rushed over him. He milked his cock as the tingles of orgasm quickly dissipated.   
  
Panting, he rose on wobbly legs, off of the phallus, and wiped his eyes with his discarded tunic, then wiped his come-covered hand with it..   
  
It wasn't enough. He'd come, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't the burning and sharp sensation that he needed.   
  
Thighs still aching from the exertion, he quickly put away his things, slipped into some briefs, and crept to the refresher to use the facilities and do some quick washing. He was just drying his hands when he thought he felt an inquiring tug on his training bond with Qui-Gon.   
  
He went deathly still and tried to project the calm of a peaceful sleep. After a moment, the tendril of inquiry from Qui-Gon went silent. Obi-Wan exhaled softly and tiptoed back to bed. He didn't expect to sleep, though. His persistent craving would have him desperate for touch within a couple hours, if his previous nights were any way to judge.   
  
  
  
        He woke early, having gotten only snatches and bits of sleep throughout the night. There was an unsatisfying ache at his bottom that reminded him instantly of his failure the evening before. He'd always been astute. He knew what the problem was.   
  
He'd never satisfy this need within him all on his own. It was borne of his depravity with the Laridian boys, and it could only be burned away with yet more depravity with another. But where could he go? He'd never been to a brothel, and obviously it was out of the question to seek the help of another Jedi. If whomever he approached was not thoroughly disgusted, then he would be looked upon with pity for his weakness.   
  
So, he'd just have to learn what there was to know about brothels. It was the only next step he could imagine. He had to do something to get this under control. The sooner he did, the sooner he could let Qui-Gon in again. He missed him so much that it made his stomach ache.   
  
~*~   
  
"Padawan? I have some bad news for you."   
  
Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks a few feet from the front door to their quarters. "Yes?"   
  
"You're going to have to forego your outing tonight with your friends. It's simply too dangerous."   
  
Obi-Wan felt the blood drain from his face. What was he supposed to do?   
  
"I am sorry, Obi-Wan."   
  
Qui-Gon did look upon him with sincere regret. But it didn't help. In fact, it hurt. It hurt to look at his Master's handsome, sincere face and realize that Qui-Gon unknowingly felt badly for a degenerate Padawan, a whore-seeking apprentice. Qui-Gon deserved better of the man he called Padawan, and having his plan foiled, he saw it for the dirty, counterproductive idea that it was.   
  
But how was he going to get better if he didn't seek out someone to help him with this insistent, clawing, craving that was eating him from the inside out?   
  
"Whatever it is that's haunting you, Obi-Wan, I wish that you could share it with me."   
  
"So do I." Obi-Wan ducked his head and walked to his room. "I need to think."   
  
He slipped into his room without waiting for a response from Qui-Gon. However he planned to rid himself of this thing inside, he had to do it quickly. He had to stop hurting his Master, he had to stop shutting him out. He had to be clean enough inside to let his Master in again. The health of their bond depended on it.   
  
He calmed his breathing and forced his emotions to settle. No broadcasting. He wouldn't put Qui-Gon through that.   
  
He sank into meditation and went back to examining his shields. The foundation. He found solace and comfort in nurturing the deep blue layers of his mind. Calm descended upon him as he cared for each intricate layer of his shielding. He finally found enough calm to swim back out of his thoughts and into the present. Hours had passed. He knew what to do.   
  
He still had some of his purchases to try. Before he gave up, he would give it another go on his own. Maybe now that he had some focus, he could get to that intensity level he needed.   
  
As he did the night before, he listened carefully through his training bond with Qui-Gon. It seemed as if his Master was settling in for the night, if not yet asleep. Obi-Wan gathered his things, biding his time until he was reasonably sure that Qui-Gon had drifted off.   
  
He tapped into the training bond again, and felt a deep calm from Qui-Gon. That meant he was probably asleep. Good. It was time.   
  
He slipped out of his clothes and settled on the rug in the middle of his room, towel nearby for cleanup. He gulped as he held his newly purchased wand in front of his eyes. Again, he'd dimmed his lights, and they reflected almost menacingly off the thin stainless steel. He glanced at his groin, noting the lack of interest in his flaccid penis. Well, that was okay. He'd not been hard the first time Cason used a wand on him, he recalled.   
  
Gently cradling his quiescent shaft, he slowly rubbed the narrow, blunted tip of the wand against his slit. There was a teeny bit of moisture gathered there, and the sensation of the steel against him did bring some tingles of interest to his groin.   
  
Very slowly, he began to push the wand into his shaft. It slid inside him easily, pushing into his urethra in a burning path. He stopped when guessed the tip had reached about the base of his penis. He twirled the studded end of the wand, willing the sensations to build.   
  
They did, but it was not the burn of satisfaction. He only hardened a little, not enough for his cock to fill out around the wand. Oh please, he begged of himself. Please let it be enough. The hand that had cradled his penis, then began to stroke it. Come on, he coaxed silently, like it, please like it.   
  
Frustration compounded when his arousal did not grow. Slowly, he pulled the wand back out, to just the tip, then slid it in again, twisting it with the stud as he did. The burn was there, but the excitement was not. The intensity was not.   
  
Oh please! He pulled out and pushed the wand back in again, willing the sensations to come.   
  
He only peripherally noticed the tears splashing on his hand while he stroked his barely responding penis. Why couldn't he do this without help? What would it take? He needed more, he needed so much, he needed to feel, he needed, oh gods he needed.   
  
The door to his bedroom opened and light from the hallway fell on him like a spotlight. He looked up and into the pained expression of his Master.   
  
"Obi-Wan?" he whispered, with compassion. Always such compassion.   
  
"I can't. I don't know how. I need." He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think.   
  
Qui-Gon approached slowly and sat beside him. "You don't need this."   
  
Very carefully, Qui-Gon stilled the trembling hand that still held the wand within his shaft. Gently, his Master clasped the stud at the top and pulled the wand out, setting it aside.   
  
What was he doing? Sitting naked on his bedroom floor while Qui-Gon pulled that device out of his flaccid cock? What was wrong with him?   
  
"Nothing is wrong with you, Obi-Wan. You are in need. It is not wrong to need, and it is not shameful to need. It is not wrong to let those who love you help you."   
  
"Then please. Master. Help me." It hurt to speak, it hurt to say the words, but he had to.   
  
"Always, my Padawan, always." He wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan's bare shoulder and drew him close, into a warm, safe embrace while he fought the shudders that wracked his body.   
  
After long moments of slow, soothing sways in his Master's embrace, Qui-Gon finally pulled back a little and whispered, "Now let's get you dressed. And then, we'll talk."   
  
His face flushed as the crisis of his emotions eased, and the reality of his situation hit him.   
  
"Don't be ashamed, Obi-Wan, for any of this," Qui-Gon reminded him as he handed him his discarded leggings. Obi-Wan nodded, still not looking Qui-Gon in the eye as he slipped his ankles into the leggings. He stood, with Qui-Gon's help, and got the breeches pulled over his hips and laced, glad to cover the accusing blue bird emblazoned on his skin.   
  
  
  
    Obi-Wan fell to the sofa more than he sat. His legs refused to support him and his mind was having trouble reconciling the harsh reality of what was happening to him with the decidedly surreal quality of the very room around him. His master had just pulled him up from a naked and desperate attempt to rouse feeling in himself with a penile wand, and yet here he sat on the couch, Qui-Gon making him tea. Did the room have an off-kilter tilt, or was he dreaming?   
  
Qui-Gon put the warm cup in Obi-Wan's hands and pulled a kitchenette chair over to site directly across from him. "Go on, take a sip. It will warm you."   
  
Mechanically, he did as told. Qui-Gon was right. The warmth was comforting. But he still could not manage to look Qui-Gon in the eyes.   
  
"Why? What is so terrible that you are ashamed to look at me?"   
  
"I'm not clean."   
  
"Obi-Wan?"   
  
"This thing inside me. This need. It's tainted me."   
  
Qui-Gon leaned forward and placed his hands on Obi-Wan's knees.   
  
"There is nothing about you that is unclean, Obi-Wan. Nothing. Talk to me, tell me why you feel this way."   
  
It sounded so much like a plea. Qui-Gon wasn't ordering him to talk, he was asking. It would almost be better if he was ordered. but no, he owed Qui-Gon the respect to tell him without making it a command.   
  
"I grew accustomed to a certain level of... intensity... while I was on Pilani. Now that I am home, my body still... craves... what a Pisan craves. I became their Pisan."   
  
"Obi-Wan, you did not become their Pisan. You became accustomed to the physical sensations of being with the Laridian sons. You are experiencing a physical withdrawal."   
  
Obi-Wan tried to calm himself as he listened to Qui-Gon. Withdrawal?   
  
"Yes. You became dependent on the physical sensations as a way to cope. It will pass, I promise you. Do you understand?"   
  
Obi-Wan was stunned. A physical addiction. It made sense. That was why he rationalized to himself that he needed to feel it once more in order to be rid of it. the classic rationalization of an addict. Oh, Force, and he'd nearly taken himself to a brothel in his need to satisfy it. "Yes," he finally rasped.   
  
The cup shook in Obi-Wan's hand until Qui-Gon retrieved it and set it aside.   
  
"You cannot help what your body now craves. It does not change who you are inside. You are still Jedi. You did the right thing, Obi-Wan. You coped the best way you could and waited for your chance to get back to me. You are no less Obi-Wan Kenobi than you were a quarter ago."   
  
Obi-Wan nodded, his head again bowed.   
  
Qui-Gon sighed, an exasperated sound. "You do not yet believe it."   
  
Obi-Wan didn't answer. How could he?   
  
"Tell me what it was like."   
  
What? Obi-Wan lifted his eyes slowly.   
  
"The sensations, the feelings. When they made love to you. What was it like?"   
  
Making love? Could Qui-Gon truly call it that, and expect him to call it that? Obi-Wan swallowed, hard. Maybe explaining it would make Qui-Gon understand why it was so wrong.   
  
"Every time they made me come, there was a sizzling in my veins like wildfire. It burned through me and the harder I came the more I was left with nothing but ash. And so the part of me that wanted it was dust also, blown away by the time the sun rose."   
  
"And now. You want to burn away the part of you that still wants it." Qui-Gon cupped his cheek gently, holding his gaze.   
  
He blinked yes. Oh yes. If he could burn away the traitor inside of him, everything would be better. He'd be clean inside. He'd be the Jedi Qui-Gon needed him to be.   
  
"Obi-Wan, why do you believe your cravings are traitorous?"   
  
Why was Qui-Gon pushing this before they were ready? Obi-Wan fought for breath and his blood raced through his veins as he realized he'd have to speak what had always been the unspoken between them.   
  
"Because the need comes from my submission to them... and I was not meant to give myself like that, not so completely. Not to them." His heart pounded with renewed anxiety as he saw realization dawn on Qui-Gon's face.   
  
"Oh.. Padawan."   
  
"It's destined, Master." Did Qui-Gon not have the same prescience? Oh. Oh no. "You-- you haven't foreseen it?"   
  
"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon sat back, his fingers and warm hand leaving Obi-Wan's cheek, leaving him cold.   
  
He could not have been wrong! He'd seen it, felt its inevitability so many times. He was not wrong!   
  
"I-- I never could tell when. But I've known since the day I first saw you that someday... Someday we would come together, bonded in all ways. I had to be clean enough. I had to be sure there was nothing ugly inside me when it was finally time."   
  
He watched as emotion after emotion chased itself across Qui-Gon's expression. He saw sorrow and compassion and something he swore was regret.   
  
It wasn't time. He knew it wasn't time. Damn! Qui-Gon the Master would understand and forgive anything. Qui-Gon, would-be-bondmate, was not ready to know the depths of depravity Obi-Wan had sunk to on Pilani.   
  
"You're wrong, Obi-Wan. It was not depravity! It was a kind of love that you cannot understand. That does not make it unclean. And as for us coming together." Qui-Gon's discomfort made Obi-Wan queasy.   
  
He leaned forward, pushing down his nausea. "It is not time. I know that. I needed to be cleansed of this first."   
  
Qui-Gon shook his head and took a ragged breath. "You must know that what is meant to be with us, will be, when the time is right."   
  
So Qui-Gon had foreseen it also. That helped, but only a little. What if he'd ruined it? Since he'd met Qui-Gon, he'd known that it was meant to be. It was still meant to be, he could feel it. But now, he couldn't feel that it would be good. He would have to live with the knowledge that what should have been Qui-Gon's, untouched, had the mark of another upon it. That untried intimacy was supposed to be his gift to Qui-Gon.   
  
Qui-Gon responded to his thoughts by putting his warm palm back on Obi-Wan's cheek. "Oh, Obi-Wan. Don't you see? There *is* something inside of you that remains wholly untarnished. Your love for me. Nothing can take that from me. And when you are ready, you'll open yourself to me, show me what you have inside for me, and I will cherish it."   
  
"How will I make myself ready?" If Qui-Gon could pretend that they were still a certainty, then so could he.   
  
Qui-Gon smiled. "You'll have to learn to have faith again."   
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and soaked up the warmth of Qui-Gon's hand on his cheek before Qui-Gon sat back again. "Any idea where I should start with this task?"   
  
Qui-Gon inclined his head, his expression becoming more stern. Obi-Wan shifted in his seat.   
  
"At the moment, I would say with the need to examine your logic. When you were on Alderaan, what was one thing you had hoped you would accomplish?"   
  
Obi-Wan felt like his face was on fire. "Lose my virginity." He could barely whisper it.   
  
"To a young woman, no doubt." At that Obi-Wan nodded and bowed his head. "You consider a quick fling with a female to be more pure than allowing yourself to submit your feelings to a pair of young men who love you?" Qui-Gon asked.   
  
"She wouldn't have taken something inside of me that was meant to be yours! She wouldn't have reached into the foundation of who I am and *changed* me by making me submit the part of me that is yours! Master, I came to *enjoy* what was supposed to have been taken unwilling. I gave the intimacy that was to be yours alone!"   
  
Obi-Wan took his head in his hands and squeezed, trying to relieve the pressure of his headache and to force away the pain. His whole body shook as he tried to win back any measure of control.   
  
Qui-Gon's arms wrapping around him made him tremble harder, though he prayed silently that his Master would not take away that warmth, that he'd hold just a little bit longer, a little bit tighter.   
  
"As long as you need, as tightly as you need," Qui-Gon crooned as rocked Obi-Wan slowly, his arms not easing their grip. All the while, the ache throbbed in his temples while he shuddered in Qui-Gon's embrace.   
  
At last Obi-Wan began to still and he sniffed back the last threat of tears. Qui-Gon gently wiped away the single escaped drop on his cheek then cupped Obi-Wan's face. He then dropped a soft kiss to Obi-Wan's lips before he drew back to capture his eyes.   
  
"Padawan, sex without emotion, without caring, *that* will taint you deep inside. Love is never dirty. This is a lesson that most Padawans your age learn a much easier way on the Alderaan excursion, I'm afraid." He sighed and then continued, Obi-Wan rapt on every word.   
  
"I won't deny that a part of me feels rather jealous that Cason and Eron made you feel so deeply. But I would rather you know what it is to care and love, than to see you give your body to someone meaninglessly. Having feelings for Eron and Cason does not make me feel that you care for me any less. Our future together, when it takes that turn, will not be tainted by your having been loved. You have plenty inside of you that is saved just for me. And when it is time, we will share it."   
  
He wanted to believe. He wanted to look at how he'd felt every time Eron came deeply inside him, and look at how he felt every time he emptied his seed into Cason's body, and not feel there was something deeply, irreversibly tarnished inside of him.   
  
Qui-Gon again shook his head in mild exasperation. "You'll believe. When you're ready. Perhaps I've made a mistake in not allowing you to get back to your training more fully. How would you feel about some 'saber practice in the morning?"   
  
Obi-Wan nodded gratefully, exhaustion finally wearing on him. "I'd like that."   
  
Still, he surprised himself by actually sleeping steadily through the rest of night.   
  
*************************   
  
Wielding his lightsaber during his spar with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan couldn't help but appreciate Avon-Durr's sense of what it meant to be Jedi. His lightsaber was the item Durr had returned to Qui-Gon to assure him that he had indeed managed to capture his Padawan. Having it in his hands again, he already felt more like his old self.   
  
He was pleased with how well he did in the exercise and realized that the work he'd done with the Laridian boys with the Pilani staffs had helped him more than he had thought. Maneuvers and forms came back to him quickly and he fell into the rhythm of the exercise easily.   
  
The more he fell into the pace of the spar, the more at peace he became. Remembering his discussion with Qui-Gon did not distract him, but rather it soaked into him, the meaning within the words becoming real. It became another layer of truth, the truth of who he was, the good and the bad.   
  
Obi-Wan would never truly understand the feelings of a Pilanian toward his Pisan or the feelings of a Pisan toward his buyer, but he knew that Cason and Eron cared for him-- and he would someday accept that he came to care for them, even if he'd never understand how those feelings came to be.   
  
For the first time, he understood what Qui-Gon meant when he'd told him that there were not answers for all questions, and that sometimes all one can do is accept what is.   
  
The exercise ended with Obi-Wan opposite his Master, a satisfying sweat beading his forehead and a feeling of calm rippling through him to settle over him at last with a gusty exhalation. It was a start.   
  
"Well done, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon bowed slightly, a smile curling his lips.   
  
Well done, his Master told him. And he believed it. He had a way to go, and he couldn't help the fear that he'd ruined something sacred with Qui-Gon. Oh, he had no doubt they would be bondmates; he was too certain of his prescience. His fear was that the bond would not come alive between them as it was meant to.   
  
"You managed to stay in good health while on Pilani, I see," Qui-Gon told him as they exited the hall.   
  
He took Qui-Gon's compliment with a humble bow, but the subject of his health reminded him of his curiosity about the staffs. "Master, have you ever seen a Pilanian dance, with their staffs?"  
  
"Just once, I saw a demonstration on Alderaan. I'm a little envious, Obi-Wan, that you had the opportunity to work with them," Qui-Gon told him as they continued through the temple.   
  
"I wish I'd had some connection to the Force while working with them." Obi-Wan suppressed the disquiet at the thought, and remained centered.   
  
"Oh, but you did, in a sense. You couldn't recognize your connection with it, but it was there; the Force was with you even when you didn't know it. and also when you used the staffs of teesi bark. The micro-organisms that live within the bark continue to live on once the staffs are made. The conditioning oil feeds them, and they glow to life when they sense the adrenaline rush of a Pilani dancer. The organisms are not sentient, but are strong in the Force. When they are incited by Pilani adrenaline, they emit a subtle Force energy pulse, and the dancers use that energy boost to increase the speed of the dance. It's quite remarkable, Padawan. The body chemistries of other species will not trigger the teesi organisms, only those of a Pilani. You did not sense the organisms, but they probably sensed you. They just didn't care for your adrenaline," Qui-Gon teased.   
  
They had stopped in the corridor to their quarters, Obi-Wan listening with fascination. "No wonder I could never perfect the dance. I could never get the staff to whir and come to life for me. Cason, and Eron, they never told me, though."   
  
Qui-Gon smiled and rested a reassuring hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder as they continued on. "They probably didn't know why. The biological answers of the staffs aren't important to Pilanians, only their devotion to the dance and to their care of the staffs. The arrangement works well for them."   
  
"I suppose. But I can't help my own curiosity and my need for knowledge," Obi-Wan said as they entered their quarters.   
  
Qui-Gon chuckled. "That's one of your most endearing and exasperating qualities, my Padawan."   
  
Obi-Wan left his Master for the shower with a grin that he didn't have to force. Qui-Gon certainly treated him with no less affection now that he knew of what had changed inside of him. Maybe there was hope for their destined bond after all.   
  
  
  
    Coming out of the shower for the second time that day, Obi-Wan pulled his clean tunic over his head and glimpsed Qui-Gon at the communications terminal.   
  
His Master turned to him and gestured him to come. "Obi-Wan? There is someone here you need to speak with." Qui-Gon's tone was reassuring. That immediately set of Obi-Wan's internal alarm. Why did Qui-Gon need to reassure him?   
  
Once he took Qui-Gon's place in the comm terminal seat, he knew. Ison Laridian stared back at him.   
  
"It's good to see you, Obi-Wan." He looked as if he meant it.   
  
"Sir. how?"   
  
Ison smiled ruefully. "I suspected that something was amiss when Qui-Gon left with you. I did some checking once I realized Avon-Durr had returned the funds for your quarter trial period. But I got lucky when I received word that the Jedi were sending a team of delegates to oversee the formation of offworld Pisan brokerage regulations. I went to speak to them personally. A member of the team was sporting a very familiar braid."   
  
Oh, the irony that his most visible identifier would only now reveal him.   
  
"How are. how are Cason and Eron?" Did they know? Were they hurt? Were they well?   
  
"They. they miss you. As far as they know, you are home on Darona with your new benefactor," Ison answered softly.   
  
"I never wanted them to be hurt." If nothing, Ison had to know that.   
  
"I know. They would never have wanted to hurt you either." Ison assured.   
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a centering breath. This was so hard.   
  
He opened them a moment later and saw Ison waiting patiently for his response. "They didn't hurt me. They were used as much as I was. They cared for me. I know that. Sir, I don't want them to know. I don't want them to have to live with the guilt, and we both know they would feel much guilt."   
  
Ison swallowed hard. "I agree. My sons would sooner lose a limb than have to live with the knowledge that took another unwilling."   
  
"I was not unwilling." Obi-Wan surprised himself with that sudden declaration, only half a lie. He'd never realized before just how fluid the truth could be. "Not in that sense. I would not have chosen to become their Pisan, but looking back, Cason and Eron would never have forced me into anything. I felt as though I had no choice but to play the part. They were never given the opportunity to judge my willingness."   
  
"Only what their empathy told them, and we know how helpful that was," Ison said and sighed. He looked haggard.   
  
"Are you well, Sir?"   
  
Ison smiled, a genuine smile, Obi-Wan could tell. "Yes, I am well, thank you. Concerned, for you as well as my sons, but better now that I have seen that you are where you belong and are recovering."   
  
"I am recovering, thank you. Sir. will you be able to keep it from them? My circumstances?" He couldn't quite let go of his dread of Cason and Eron finding out. They didn't deserve the pain of finding out.   
  
"Don't worry, Obi-Wan. I believe I can prevent it for some time. Although someday, when the hurt will be dulled, it might be a good idea for them to know. Your situation has taught us much, and my sons could benefit from it."   
  
Obi-Wan shook his head slightly, knowing it to be true, but not ready yet to hear it.   
  
"Not just yet, though, young one. You have my word that I will not tell them until some time has passed and some of their longing for you has eased."   
  
Obi-Wan nodded his thanks and felt his eyes begin to well. Cason and Eron still longed for him. Of course they did; they loved him.   
  
"Obi-Wan, I want to thank you," Ison said gently.   
  
"For what?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice unsteady.   
  
"For teaching my sons something about love that I don't think anyone else could have taught them."   
  
"They. they taught me much as well," Obi-Wan replied, a tear sliding down his cheek. "They had no idea what I truly was, and yet I learned so much about who I am."   
  
"It was a hard lesson," Ison guessed, his sympathy almost palpable even over the comm terminal.   
  
"So many lessons are," Obi-Wan replied with a wry grin and wiped away the tear. "And I did. I did care for them. Very much." It didn't hurt as much to admit it as he thought it would.   
  
Ison nodded thoughtfully, whispered a strained, "I know." Then he cleared his throat. "Obi-Wan, I wish you well."   
  
"And I you. All of you."   
  
Ison inclined his head and the comm ended. Too late, Obi-Wan realized he hadn't asked if Risa knew. She would likely be as pained by the knowledge as Cason and Eron. And yet she was so strong, and she'd felt such an empathy for Obi-Wan's plight.   
  
Obi-Wan slumped. Ison would not have kept this from his wife. Obi-Wan hoped she was handling it well.   
  
"They'll be fine, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's assurance was soothing, as was the hand that smoothed his damp hair. Obi-Wan nodded mutely and sighed into Qui-Gon's touch.   
  
"Risa cut it for me," Obi-Wan suddenly whispered into the quiet of the moment.   
  
"What? Your hair?" Qui-Gon asked, a smile in his voice.   
  
"Yes. She told me one day that though it could be unruly, that my hair had personality. And she asked if I would like for her to keep it trimmed. I agreed." Obi-Wan tipped his head to see Qui-Gon's face.   
  
His Master's smile was so fond, and he couldn't help but grin back. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, there is very little about you that isn't brimming with personality." Qui-Gon punctuated that thought with an affectionate tug on his braid.   
  
"I love you, Qui-Gon." He had to say it.   
  
"And I love you," Qui-Gon's smile reached the twinkle of his eyes.   
  
  
  
    Obi-Wan spent that night alone in his bed, after having received a soft, sweet kiss from Qui-Gon.   
  
His Master now knew everything, and he still loved him. Qui-Gon truly didn't seem to think that something was stolen that should have been his. It was entirely possible after all, that he had not bound his Qui-Gon into a tainted lifebond. Obi-Wan slept more soundly than he had since before his eighteenth birthday   
  
~*~   
  
The healers pronounced Obi-Wan to be fit to return to full duty three full weeks after his return to Coruscant. He'd had his good days and nights during that time as well as his stress-filled ones. He'd had fitful nights of rest and those in which he tossed and turned with a residual longing for purely sexual release.   
  
He hadn't spoken again of the turn his relationship with Qui-Gon would take one day. Fears such as his weren't banished over night, and he wanted to believe to core of himself that he hadn't damaged what their bond was destined to be.   
  
Despite the fit-for-duty declaration, Qui-Gon requested that their duties be confined to the temple a little longer. Avon-Durr had not yet been found, which was one reason, and Obi-Wan could genuinely benefit from some in-temple classes was the other. Qui-Gon scheduled him for hand-to-hand combat and a course in unusual planetary customs of outer rim worlds. Obi-Wan accepted that assignment with a roll of his eyes and a grin.   
  
The afternoon he returned from his first class, Qui-Gon was waiting for him, looking rather. nervous?   
  
"Perceptive, Padawan," Qui-Gon admitted with a slight grin.   
  
Obi-Wan had also strengthened his shields over the previous weeks but found that he rather liked the openness of having his thoughts readily heard by Qui-Gon. It helped him to feel close to his Master again in a way that mere words could not.   
  
"What's wrong, Master?"   
  
Qui-Gon exhaled and sat at the kitchenette table. "We've had a communication from Avon-Durr. Actually, it's more of a letter to me. He left it behind on Caliza, his last known whereabouts."   
  
That communication was apparently on the data pad that Qui-Gon placed on the table. Obi-Wan slowly took the chair opposite Qui-Gon at the table. "Do you not want me to read it?"   
  
Qui-Gon sighed. "I do want you to read it. But do you not have questions for me, Obi-Wan?"   
  
"Of course I have questions. But I figured that you would tell me when you were ready. Are you ready?" Obi-Wan cocked his head and contemplated the struggle Qui-Gon was obviously having. Then he realized that Qui-Gon had merely been waiting for *him* to be ready. Obi-Wan could have asked at any time, but he had not. "I am ready now, Master."   
  
Qui-Gon inclined his head in acknowledgment and began.   
  
"About a year before I took you as Padawan, I was involved in a mediation between Caliza and Sharia that failed. They never came to their trade agreement, and I moved on to another assignment after both delegates told me I was no longer needed. I took them at their word. I discovered months later that Sharia was blackmailing Caliza over continued slavery practices. In retaliation for the blackmail, Caliza kidnapped the Sharian king's sister. That woman was also Avon-Durr's wife. Avon-Durr was captain of the Sharian Royal Guard.   
  
"Avon-Durr petitioned me personally for help because the Sharian King was more concerned about the financial repercussions of the trade agreement than his own sister. It took him some time to reach me, and he had to do so without anyone from Caliza or Sharia knowing. By the time we got his wife back she was a broken and beaten woman. Caliza had sold her into slavery at thir mining colony.   
  
"Avon-Durr was bitter toward both Sharia and Caliza, but he held me personally responsible. The Jedi were supposed to be beyond the deceptions of devious delegates. According to Durr, if I'd done my job as a Jedi, his wife would never have been taken and both Caliza and Sharia would have been exposed before anyone else was hurt. or sold."   
  
"Qui-Gon, it wasn't your fault." Obi-Wan whispered.   
  
"No, it wasn't. But I have to be honest, Padawan. It is possible indeed that I missed something. I was not at my best at that time. My life didn't turn around until you came into it," Qui-Gon said, his voice sounding strained. He reached across the table and squeezed Obi-Wan's hand.   
  
Obi-Wan furrowed his brow in thought. Qui-Gon had told him, of course, many times when he was younger just how much it meant to him to have him as his Padawan. Qui-Gon loved him, no doubt. He'd cared for him since he was eleven. But Qui-Gon was not asking for forgiveness; he was asking for acceptance.   
  
"So you have accepted that things might have gone differently on that mission, but you do not hold the wrongs of Caliza and Sharia against yourself. Just as neither of us can hold Avon-Durr's actions against you now."   
  
Qui-Gon's gaze grew intense. "Obi-Wan, your ordeal filled me with pain I cannot describe. All that time when I didn't know where you were, where he would have sent you to be. sold. Every day that you were gone, there was one more stab in my heart. But what I cannot claim to feel is guilt."   
  
Obi-Wan nodded, understanding. "I know that now. And I accept it." He'd gone along with Avon-Durr thinking he'd spare Qui-Gon guilt. He'd spared him pain instead, and had survived. Right thing to do, wrong reason. He could live with it.   
  
Qui-Gon squeezed Obi-Wan's hand one more time and then pushed the data pad to his side of the table.   
  
"I think you're ready to read this, then."   
  
  
  
    To: Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn   
  
From: Avon-Durr of Sharia   
  
If this falls into your hands, Master Jedi, then you know that the chances of my being alive are quite slim. The arrangement is such that if I do not return from this latest mission to eradicate slavery in the galaxy, then my death is to be assumed and the transmission will be forwarded.   
  
By this time, your Padawan will have been returned to you, physically unharmed. I work too hard to eliminate slavery to sentence an innocent of such a fate. But I had no choice but to do what I did in order for the lesson to be learned.   
  
It was a blessed twist of fate, that day I saw you with your Padawan in the Mallastarian space port. I was there following a lead on a slaver. I turned from my transport, and there you were, your hand on the young man's shoulder, the boy looking up at you with such trust in his eyes. It was the same expression I'd seen on my Gelena's face so many times.   
  
I will admit that it tore at my soul to see that boy smile at you, knowing my Gelena will never smile again. Even had she lived through her last suicide attempt, I know now that her smile could never have been found again.   
  
How many other innocent smiles have been ruthlessly stolen? How many more Gelenas are suffering this very moment, Qui-Gon Jinn? It is something you and every Jedi must think upon, long and hard. I knew when I saw the two of you together, when I saw you looking upon that boy as I once looked upon Gelena, that there was only one way for you to learn, and for the boy to learn. You as the Jedi of the past and he as the Jedi of the future... It was imperative that I teach you what I know.   
  
I will admit that I took a perverse pleasure in leading your boy to believe that his situation would be as painful and agonizing as my Gelena's. You will see for yourself that I spared him such horror. I could have sent him to the mines of Caliza, where my wife and soul mate suffered so irrevocably. But I did not. I refuse to dishonor Gelena's memory by becoming a monster such as those who destroyed her.   
  
There is much work to be done to prevent such innocents from being condemned to the injustice of slavery. The consequences of your actions and lack of actions must be understood. You are Jedi. Your life is supposed to be about justice and peace. Do not fail another Gelena, Qui-Gon Jinn.   
  
Caliza must be stopped. Repudiating her membership to the Republic is not enough. If the Jedi and the Senate will not step in, then I will do what I must. I do not expect you to bear the burden of my own death, but to my last breath I will expect you to bear a burden for Gelena's. and for all others whose lives were sacrificed to the malignant greed of Caliza and the numerous worlds like her in this dark galaxy.   
  
May you hear the wails of suffering in your nightmares each time you close your eyes to sleep, as I have these past years.   
  
Avon-Durr   
  
  
  
    Obi-Wan put the pad down and looked at Qui-Gon. "Do you believe he is dead?"   
  
"It is a distinct possibility."   
  
They were both silent. He had much to absorb. He was not of a mind to excuse Avon-Durr's actions, by far. But he was coming to understand that there were many shades to madness, grief and wrong doing. Avon-Durr was a man with convictions who was on a noble quest. who had done a deplorable thing in the name of that quest.   
  
"I hope not," Obi-Wan whispered.   
  
Qui-Gon brushed his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair as he stood. "You have such goodness in you, Obi-Wan."   
  
Obi-Wan smiled wanly. "He's right, Master, I did have it easy. His wife was beaten and abused and her will to live was crushed. I was sent to a world where two gentle people came to love me, and an entire family came to care for me."   
  
Qui-Gon turned from the tea kettle and lifted Obi-Wan's chin so that their eyes met. "I am more thankful than you can imagine that your ordeal was not like Gelena's. And I am proud that you came through your own ordeal well, and having learned so much."   
  
He let go of Obi-Wan's chin with one more quick caress, then returned to the kettle and the tea preparations.   
  
"Master, do you think he knew just how easy I would have it? Somehow, I can't imagine that he'd believe he could enlighten me to his cause by sending me to be so completely. pampered." Obi-Wan winced at the word 'pampered'.   
  
Qui-Gon sighed as he poured. "I don't think his perceptions could allow him to understand a symbolic slavery as opposed to a very real one. I believe he had enough compassion for you to send you to a place where he was sure you could be easily retrieved, and where owners are notorious for treating their 'slaves' well. He could not have anticipated that the lessons we learned had little to do with his original intent."   
  
"And of his original intent, Master?"   
  
Qui-Gon sat looked at him soberly. "The Senate will not intervene on a non-Republic world. Not on internal affairs. However, there is hope that they will approve a temporary seizure to free slaves who might be from Republic worlds and who have been smuggled in."   
  
"Let me guess, that hope has been lingering for almost a decade now?" Obi-Wan asked, uncharacteristically cynical.   
  
"About that, yes." Qui-Gon took a deep sip from his cup, then looked at Obi-Wan again. "Avon-Durr was right about something, Padawan. You are the future of the Jedi. What we do not achieve in this generation, will be up to you to achieve in yours. And if it is not achieved in yours, then it is up to you to pass the hope of achievement to the next generation."   
  
That was the sacrifice that Qui-Gon needed of him; not one of the body, but of the promise to hope, no matter what the future brought. Did he have the strength to carry that kind of hope? Looking into the timeless blue of his Master's eyes, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon's undeterred faith in him. And he decided yes.   
  
*********************   
  
A pleasant warmth settled low in Obi-Wan's belly, and it had nothing to do with the satisfying meal Qui-Gon had made for them. His Master had spent their entire dinner flirting with him, and now as Obi-Wan dried their dishes, he began to have new appreciation for the term anticipation. Could the time of their bonding truly be upon them?   
  
Over the past couple of weeks, Obi-Wan had come more and more to terms with what he'd been through on Pilani. His body ceased its purely physical craving for release and Obi-Wan had let go his guilt at having come to care for his unwitting captors. He didn't have an answer for his every action, nor an exact reason for his every reaction. He no longer needed them.   
  
He also felt less and less inclined to be ashamed of the darker corners of his mind. In fact, as he became more willing to look into those recesses, he realized they weren't so dark after all. He'd needed to see that for himself in order to truly believe that he hadn't lost anything irretrievable.   
  
With that new understanding of himself, he began to notice that Qui-Gon's looks at him held gradually more heat. His touches lasted longer and longer... and the innuendo became slightly more suggestive. Qui-Gon apparently was deeming him closer to being ready for them to join. Obi-Wan was inclined to agree. At times the room fairly buzzed with electricity between them.   
  
Obi-Wan brought their after dinner tea into the common room and nearly dropped the small tray when he saw the lusty gaze Qui-Gon had leveled on him.   
  
"Ah, thank you, Padawan," Qui-Gon smiled and took a sip from his cup.   
  
"My pleasure, Master," Obi-Wan grinned back, getting into the spirit of the game.   
  
"Not yet, but it will be."   
  
Obi-Wan nearly spit out his own sip, and Qui-Gon chuckled. "I've had more practice at this, my Padawan, granted, but I didn't think you could be so easily shocked."   
  
"I'm not shocked, I just expected a Jedi Master to be more. subtle," Obi-Wan defended.   
  
Qui-Gon quirked an eyebrow at that. "Subtle, Obi-Wan? These last weeks, you have been a walking temptation. I've been concentrating much more on self control than I have been on subtlety."   
  
Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"   
  
Qui-Gon chuckled. "It is. But I must know, do you feel ready?"   
  
Obi-Wan replied, all seriousness. "I do. I know what I want. And I'm reasonably sure that I know what you want."   
  
Qui-Gon sighed and inclined his head, looking at Obi-Wan as if appraising him. Obi-Wan shifted in his seat under the scrutiny. At last a warm grin curled Qui-Gon's lips, and he put aside his cup, stood and reached a hand out to him.   
  
"Very well, my enticing Padawan, come along."   
  
"Master?"   
  
Just like that? No more flirting? No more. foreplay? Of course, Obi-Wan took the proffered hand and stood.   
  
Qui-Gon bent to whisper in his ear. "Oh trust me, young one, there will be plenty of foreplay. And then I'm going to ravish you to incoherence."   
  
Obi-Wan shivered. Oh, this would be good.   
  
Qui-Gon led him to his bedroom and Obi-Wan felt a thrill at the prospect of making love in the middle of his Master's big bed.   
  
"If we do this right, Obi-Wan, we'll use more than just the middle," Qui-Gon said with a nip to Obi-Wan's earlobe. Qui-Gon's words-- and his mouth-- stirred the warmth in his belly and turned it into a whir of aroused tingles.   
  
Obi-Wan placed his hands on Qui-Gon's bearded face and looked into his eyes. He saw humor, passion and unconditional adoration. "I love you, Qui-Gon."   
  
"And I love you," he replied with a smile.   
  
His mouth then descended onto Obi-Wan's, warm and supple, his kiss filled with erotic promises. Qui-Gon's tongue swept past Obi-Wan's lips, coaxing his own tongue out to tickle and play. His Master tasted of spice and of power barely contained. Oh, he wanted to unleash that power and feel its impact upon his body.   
  
"Mmm," Qui-Gon moaned as he pulled back. "Be careful what you wish for, Obi-Wan. I've waited a long time for this."   
  
Obi-Wan backed away until his rump hit the mattress, his eyes locked to Qui-Gon, willing him to follow. He pulled off his boots and relaxed back to lean on his elbows. "The waiting is over, Master. I want you to do with me as you will."   
  
"And what about your will, Obi-Wan?"   
  
"That is my will, Qui-Gon." His reply was rather saucy.   
  
Qui-Gon raked a slow, possessive gaze over Obi-Wan's body then nodded once and slowly advanced. The fire in Qui-Gon's eyes as he prowled closer would have been menacing if not for the promise of sensual rewards that emanated from him.   
  
As Qui-Gon reached the bed, Obi-Wan spread his knees, welcoming Qui-Gon in between them. "What do you want, Master? Tell me what you want."   
  
"I want to give you the command I've waited for too long to give you."   
  
"And that would be?" Obi-Wan asked with an irrepressible grin.   
  
"Strip, my Padawan." The power resonating in Qui-Gon's voice reached inside Obi-Wan and sent him into meltdown. His tunic flew over his head and then he was working at the drawstring of his leggings. "So eager," Qui-Gon chuckled, but the smoldering in his eyes remained.   
  
"I've waited a long time, too," Obi-Wan grinned back but flushed nonetheless as he tugged the leggings past his bottom. The awkward shyness he felt about their first time was entirely at odds with the urgency to feel and taste and be devoured as soon as possible. The result of the conflicting emotions was an utterly delicious combination of giddiness and need.   
  
Completely naked, Obi-Wan knelt on the bed and watched the expressions shift on Qui-Gon's face. The lust was still there, but with it was something warm. something tender. Qui-Gon skimmed his hands over Obi-Wan's bare thighs, a light caress.   
  
"Master?" Was Qui-Gon having doubts?   
  
"It's fine, Obi-Wan. I just want to look at you for a moment."   
  
Obi-Wan felt a rush of arousal firm his penis and he blushed again.   
  
Qui-Gon placed his palms on Obi-Wan's shoulder blades and moved them slowly down his back, settling lightly on his buttocks. "You're sure that you're ready?" Qui-Gon asked in a tight voice.   
  
"Oh yes," Obi-Wan whispered his answer. Qui-Gon's hands on his bare bottom robbed him of breath, but he was positive in the rightness of what was to come.   
  
Qui-Gon exhaled a long breath and then stepped back to undress.   
  
Obi-Wan's eyes remained glued to the tall figure of his Master as little by little his clothing dropped away. After just a moment, he was feasting his eyes on solid muscle, long limbs and golden skin. He wanted to feel and taste it all.   
  
"And you will, Obi-Wan, you will."   
  
Obi-Wan scooted further onto the bed as Qui-Gon crawled on, his expression now predatory. He lay back, waiting for Qui-Gon to pounce, to capture him.   
  
**Mmm. Pounce indeed. You are a delicious-looking prey, my Padawan.** Qui-Gon ran his hands up Obi-Wan's legs, his thumbs dragging along his inner thighs, and almost instinctively, Obi-Wan spread wider.   
  
He closed his eyes as Qui-Gon caressed his hips, teasing his groin with the touch that skimmed close to, but not quite where he longed for it most.   
  
Qui-Gon's hair then spilled onto Obi-Wan's belly, to tease the leaking tip of his cock. Obi-Wan gasped, then moaned softly as he felt warm lips ghosting over his pelvic bone. Fingertips also skimmed over that spot.   
  
He didn't have to look to see what had so captivated Qui-Gon; but he looked anyway. Qui-Gon's mouth and fingers traced lovingly over his Pisan tattoo.   
  
"You. you know what it means?" Obi-Wan asked in a shaky whisper.   
  
"I do," Qui-Gon smiled back, all warmth. "Do you want it removed?"   
  
"No. Now that I know what it means to us, no."   
  
"Good. Because mine will be etched onto my body tomorrow." The thought of Qui-Gon sporting a similar mark made him shudder. "Mine will be gold and red," Qui-Gon murmured against his skin. "Sunshine and fire, to remind me of you."   
  
Qui-Gon's tongue continued to map the deep blue tropical bird for a long moment, remaking it into his own mark, before he left it with a soft kiss. Then his mouth traveled the soft flesh of Obi-Wan's balls, laving and tracing them with the same attention he gave the Pisan tattoo. The moist warmth sent sparks of arousal throughout Obi-Wan's groin, and he groaned softly.   
  
The sensations sharpened when Qui-Gon flicked his tongue over the sensitive crown of Obi-Wan's cock. He didn't take him into his mouth, though; instead, he licked his way back down to his balls, nudging them away with his nose to tongue Obi-Wan's perineum.   
  
Oh, it was so good. So intimate. Qui-Gon would leave no part of him un-sampled, Obi-Wan realized.   
  
Helpfully, he pulled his trembling legs to his chest so his Master would have better access. He was instantly rewarded with a moist laving of his opening. After several thorough laps, Qui-Gon's tongue pierced him and slithered inside. Reflexively, he clenched the moist tongue that wriggled inside him, claiming it as much as the tongue claimed him.   
  
Qui-Gon's groans echoed Obi-Wan's softer ones as Qui-Gon took what was his.   
  
His cock, his balls, his ass, everything Qui-Gon licked and loved was marked Property of Qui-Gon Jinn, and Obi-Wan gave over eagerly, of his own free will.   
  
The tongue pulled out of his pulsating opening at last and Qui-Gon kissed his way to Obi-Wan's belly, sparing a quick detour to kiss again the glistening tip of his erection. The path of kisses continued to Obi-Wan's heart, then to a tender nipple peaked with anticipation. Qui-Gon sucked and nipped the pebbled flesh, the sensations reverberating along a taut thread of arousal to Obi-Wan's groin. Each suck on the nipple plucked the thread and made him throb impossibly harder.   
  
A long moment later, Qui-Gon's lips trailed along his throat and stopped a breath away from his own waiting lips. Qui-Gon dipped his head, but instead of kissing him, he traced Obi-Wan's lips with the tip of his tongue. Obi-Wan shuddered as sensation prickled through him.   
  
Finally, Qui-Gon's mouth descended on his own, and that teasing tongue slid between his lips, stealing his breath and making him tense with hunger. Gradually, Qui-Gon's body blanketed his own, his Master's weight speaking to him of power, lust and possessiveness.   
  
Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Qui-Gon's back, and his legs around his waist, clinging, pressing himself as close as he could, wishing they could melt together somehow, fuse into one being. The feel of Qui-Gon's hard, heavy cock nestling against his own was devastating. The urge to join magnified and clawed at him from the inside out, and he began to clutch the bigger man with need.   
  
Qui-Gon pulled back from their kiss and brushed his lips Obi-Wan's forehead. "Easy, now."   
  
"I want this so much," Obi-Wan gasped and tried to calm his pounding heart. When the rush inside him didn't ease, he surged and toppled Qui-Gon to his back so that he straddled his upper thighs. He could feel through their bond that Qui-Gon was pleased-- his Master would rather have an active lover than one who merely laid himself out as a bodily sacrifice.   
  
He felt a chuckle in his mind as he undulated against Qui-Gon's body. **Do not misunderstand, Obi-Wan. Your body laid out before me is enticing indeed.**   
  
Qui-Gon's mental thought was choked off as Obi-Wan sat up and grasped the thick cock with two hands.   
  
**But this. oh sweet Force. this is much better.**   
  
Obi-Wan watched his Master's eyes glaze over as he stroked him with firm purpose. He stopped just long enough to reach for the oil on the bedside table-- stealing a kiss from Qui-Gon's parted lips along the way-- and the stroking resumed.   
  
Obi-Wan's gaze traveled Qui-Gon's torso as he continued to slick the thick cock. His Master's body was solid and so strong; his size gave him impressive bulk and yet he was lean, his chest broad with a sprinkling of dark hair. His waist was trim and his belly subtly rippled with muscle. Obi-Wan used his eyes to caress the enticing expanse of golden skin with the same ardor with which he petted and oiled the hot erection in his hands.   
  
"Obi-Wan," a soft growl warned him. **I only have so much control!**   
  
Obi-Wan grinned, released Qui-Gon's cock and lifted his weight a little more from Qui-Gon's thighs. His eyes trained on his Master's, he reached back, between his own buttocks to slip an oiled finger inside of himself.   
  
Qui-Gon's fingers traced over Obi-Wan's chest and he licked his lips as he watched the self-preparation. Qui-Gon watching him while he fingered himself. what could be more intimate than that? It felt so right.   
  
Need again asserted itself, rising strong and wild within, and Obi-Wan could wait no longer. He grasped Qui-Gon's slick cock and positioned himself over it.   
  
Qui-Gon held onto Obi-Wan's waist while he slowly sat, feeling the swollen cockhead breech his opening. Oh, Force! Qui-Gon's cock felt so big. he felt like he was being torn apart, but he couldn't stop, he had to have him inside. Qui-Gon's mouth slacked open and his fingers trembled over Obi-Wan's waist. Seemed as if they were both shaken by the intensity.   
  
The swollen tip finally popped through and Obi-Wan threw his head back as he slowly lowered himself, the thick shaft pushing into him, filling him so completely. He stopped when he felt his buttocks brush against Qui-Gon's balls and thighs. He gave an experimental roll of his hips and sucked in a breath at the sensations.   
  
Qui-Gon's hands roamed his waist and chest, and when Obi-Wan met his eyes, he saw love and lust in astounding measures glittering just for him.   
  
"You're inside me." He could barely speak through the tension that gripped his throat.   
  
"So deep," Qui-Gon answered softly and raised his hips just enough to send another round of sparks firing through Obi-Wan's body.   
  
It was enough to urge Obi-Wan into movement and he slowly lifted himself, Qui-Gon's cock dragging its way out of his body. The friction was glorious, a burning sensation to be savored; he prolonged his ascent from the hard cock to relish that burn. He stopped when only the head was snug within him.   
  
He joined hands with Qui-Gon, using his grip for leverage, and began a slow rhythm of rising and falling.   
  
Tingles of sensation built and gathered within, urgency compounding with his pleasure. More, faster, deeper, harder, make him yours. his body shouted its commands and Obi-Wan obeyed, surrendering himself to the frenzy. Qui-Gon's gasps and groans urged him on and finally he found himself teetering on a high precipice that was rumbling and about to collapse beneath him.   
  
Obi-Wan lifted his body once more, gathering all that he had inside to offer to his Master before he fell. Then he sank down again, hard. Lights exploded behind his eyes, deep blue the predominant color.   
  
All that he was, all that he would be, flaws and strengths; the very basis of what he was, it would always be blue, it would always be Qui-Gon's, whenever his Master should ask. He came, so hard, screaming Qui-Gon's name through their bond if not from his voice.   
  
Qui-Gon, too, was coming, surging up to spill his seed as deeply into Obi-Wan's body as he could; Obi-Wan accepted the offering of Qui-Gon's body with his head thrown back and his senses singing their joy.   
  
At last Obi-Wan collapsed to Qui-Gon's chest in a sweaty, exhausted heap.   
  
"I love you," he murmured into Qui-Gon's neck.   
  
"And I love you," Qui-Gon answered as he pulled the blankets over them.   
  
He belonged. At last, he was where he belonged. He could take as much as he gave. He would give Qui-Gon his body, his mind and his faith. Qui-Gon would continue to be his foundation and he would trust Obi-Wan with all his hope for the future.   
  
If this was what it meant to be Qui-Gon's Pisan, he'd gladly wear the mark for eternity.   
  
end

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers
> 
>  
> 
> The first sections of the story could be considered O/Other... Depending on your point of view, though, and how you see the blurring of what it means to be a willing partner. Obi-Wan did not willingly go into this situation, and so there is an element of non-con. However, he is never *physically* forced into sexual situations. He is never treated violently. 
> 
> The sexual encounters with the 'Other' were coerced, and the kinkiest parts of the story occur during that coercion. 
> 
> If you're still in need of more clues before you decide whether or not to read it, e-mail me privately.


End file.
